Celia shielded her eyes against the glaring Texan sun with the palm of her hand, this sun was going nowhere. She had just stepped off the train that had carried her from the Austin airport, and after a two-hour journey in a small cramped seat, she could feel her bones aching and her legs needing a stretch. How long would she have to wait here in the heat?

Two stuffed-to the brim suitcases lay at her feet. She had packed everything she could, everything she would need, although she wasn’t quite sure what she might actually require. She had never been to Texas before, and definitely never to such a small town.

Celia took in a deep breath and sighed. She had been standing there for over fifteen minutes now, and there was no sign of her ride.

Her grandfather had written a letter to her a month ago. Initially she had smiled when she found the letter slipped under the door of her tenth-floor apartment in New York, by the postman. Who hand wrote letters anymore? Clearly her grandfather did. But when she eventually read the letter, the smile on her face had disappeared. He was sick, very sick, and he was her only remaining family. She had to be there for him in his hour of need, there was no other choice but that.

So, Celia quit her job, not that it was much of a job. It was an internship at a fashion magazine, but it was also a stepping stone towards the actual job that she wanted. Sure, it would have taken time, a few months, maybe even a few years…but it would all be worth it. Now, quitting her job, moving to a small town in Texas to care for her grandfather was going to be a major setback. But what other choice did she have? She couldn’t simply allow her grandfather to wither away by himself.

She had written back to him, probably her first handwritten letter in several years, telling him her plan. She would quit her job and move in with him to care for him, for as long as he needed. He was her only family, she had to do this for him and for the memory of her parents who had brought her up to care for those in need.

The roar of an engine nearby distracted Celia from her thoughts and she whipped around to find a red battered truck making its way towards her, sending dust clouds up in the air in its trail. Her grandfather had mentioned a ride, but this wasn’t what she was expecting.

The truck came to a sudden halt, right in front of her feet and Celia took a few steps back in surprise. It looked like an old dusty thing, with the red paint chipped in several places, the rearview mirror broken and dangling on the side. The engine made such a great sound that it was clear that it needed major maintenance.

Celia still had her face shielded with her hand when the driver’s door creaked open and she saw the back of a man who jumped off the truck. She still didn’t know what to expect, was this definitely her ride?

“Celia Ferro?” The man banged the door shut behind him and turned to look at her, placing his hands on the burning hot hood of the car engine. There was steam rising from it, it was so hot. But he didn’t seem to notice, he kept his hands on it.

“Yes.” She replied, in a meek voice. She had obviously expected a stranger to pick her up, but not such a handsome one. This man was a cowboy through and through, the likes of which she had only ever seen in films or on TV. She hadn’t thought that people like him actually existed in real life.

He was in a dark plaid shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. His jeans were dark too, with a wide boot cut at the bottoms. For shoes, he had ruddy dusty boots and a cowboy hat to shield his face against the sun. But the sun had definitely got to him, because his skin was darkened, and it glowed like bronze in the midday heat. His eyes were piercingly blue, and Celia dropped her gaze from his face when he looked at her, because his eyes nearly frightened her. He looked muscular and lean, like he worked outdoors all day. As hard as she tried to stop herself, she couldn’t help her mind from wandering and imagining what his bare torso would look like, underneath those clothes.

“Do you have bags?” The man asked and she nodded her head.

“They’re right here.” She said and pointed to her feet.

He walked around the front of the truck silently, taking quick long steps and was by her side within seconds. She felt her muscles freeze from his closeness. She couldn’t remember the last time her body had reacted this way to the physical presence of someone else. Without a word, he picked up both the suitcases and tossed them into the open back of the van.

Celia winced when she heard the thump of the bags as they fell. She didn’t want to imagine what the state of her perfume bottles and makeup cases were going to be inside them.

“Get in.” She heard him say, and he walked back around to the driver’s side without waiting for a response from her. Celia gulped. How was she supposed to get in?

She tried pulling at the passenger door, but it wouldn’t give. The man had already climbed back into his seat. He had his hands loosely placed on the steering wheel and was watching Celia struggling to get the door open. It was like he was enjoying her trying and failing and then trying again.

She yanked and pulled, but the door wouldn’t budge; and the man wasn’t helping. She turned a sour face to him through the windshield, her lips quivering as she glared at him. What was wrong with him? She thought, but didn’t say anything. After she had glared at him for a good few moments, he leaned over and pushed the door open from his side. It slid open as smoothly as a knife through warm butter.

Celia tried to haul herself up into the seat, as best she could. She wasn’t dressed for the occasion, she realized as she did this. Her pencil skirt clung tightly to her thighs as she tried to wriggle into the seat, her cheeks flushed and her neck burning red from embarrassment.

He was following her every movement with keen watchful eyes, and when she turned to look at him, she realized that she hadn’t once seen him smile yet.

“Thank you.” Celia said, as politely as she could, even though she didn’t exactly want to be polite to him, when he had been nothing other than rude to her.

The man said nothing, but simply started the engine and the truck roared and came to life.

Despite the fact that she was a little offended by this man’s coldness, she still couldn’t stop herself from admiring him. She couldn’t help but imagine what a big hit this man might be in the fashion industry; with his muscular physique and sharp jaw lines, he would look good in anything, and especially delicious in nothing.

“So, you know my grandfather?” She said, trying to make conversation. He had been driving in silence for a few moments now and she was beginning to grow uncomfortable in his presence. She didn’t want to simply stare at him the whole way.

“Yes.” He replied, keeping his eyes on the road. Celia realized that he had barely even looked at her. The hat remained on his head as he drove, and she noticed the clenching of the muscles on his long arms as he clutched the steering wheel.

“I’ve never been to Texas before. I grew up in Chicago and recently moved to New York.” She continued, looking over at him, hoping for a reaction, for something.

“I can see that.” He said in the same heavy emotionless voice he used to say everything else. Celia blushed again.

“I’m sure I’ll get used to this, won’t I?” She added with a smile, but he wasn’t looking at her to notice that she was trying her best to be friendly, to please him.

“No, you won’t.” He said, keeping his eyes on the road. Celia’s brows crossed. How dare he form opinions of her when he hadn’t even looked at her properly, when he barely knew her or anything about her life. She turned her face away from him, trying to control her displeasure as best as she could.

Everywhere she looked, it was dusty and covered in sand. The trees were sparse and they had crossed very few houses. She couldn’t even imagine this much open space in the cities. It was unheard of. The warm sandy air lashed against her face when she turned her face to the windows. She shielded her eyes against it and allowed the harsh rays of the sun to warm her face some more. She’d show him. She’d show this man, what she was really made of.

“What is your name?” She asked him, turning to him again.

“Wilder.” He replied, without skipping a beat. Just when she was least expecting it, he turned to look at her. Their eyes met. His blue eyes looking straight into hers, deep into her soul, studying her face. He held her gaze for several seconds before he looked away and Celia licked her lips nervously. She wanted him. As much as she wanted to dislike this man, she couldn’t help but acknowledge the fact that she wanted him. She wanted his rough hands on her skin, his blue eyes to look into her face, his shoulders to engulf her tightly…

“Why are you here?” He asked, interrupting her fantasies about him. Celia braved a look in his direction, although she was aware that her cheeks had turned red again. It was almost like he had caught her fantasizing about him, like he knew what she was thinking.

“My grandfather.” She said, fumbling with her words a little. “He needs me. He’s sick.”

Wilder looked away from her, and back to the road again.

“Why now? I don’t remember you ever visiting him before.” He said.

Celia’s brows crossed again. This man was relentless! He was passing one judgment after the other, with no reason. What on Earth did he have against her?

“Because my parents never brought me here. Then I was busy with college and finding a job and…” The words came tumbling out of her, even though she knew that she owed this man no explanation whatsoever.

“We’re here.” He said, cutting her off. He stopped the truck just as suddenly as he had started driving it. Celia’s body yanked against the seatbelt with a sudden pull from the motion of the truck. She nearly screamed from the fright. She decided right then that she wasn’t ever going to get into a car with this rude unkempt cowboy ever again. She couldn’t wait to get out.

She hadn’t noticed where they had stopped till right now. Till she pushed hard against the passenger door to get it open. They were parked at the gate of what could only have been an enormous ranch.

Wilder wasn’t helping her to get the door open. She struggled against it, panting now from the exertion and the anger she was feeling towards him.

“How do you know my grandfather?” She asked, whipping around in her seat to look at him. Grateful that the journey was over and if luck would have it, she would never have to see this man ever again.

“He works for me.” He said, with the first smirk forming on the side of his mouth, a smile that Celia knew could only mean disaster for her. “Welcome to my home.”

* * *

Celia followed Wilder in silence, looking around her in awe. He was carrying both her bags with ease in front of her. None of this was making any sense. Why had he brought her to his home? Why did he drive an old rusty truck when he lived on a ranch like this?

It was enormous, with a mansion that stood in the center of it, and even though Celia couldn’t see them, she could hear the cattle and the horses in the distance. This ranch had to be worth billions. And this man, Wilder, did not look or dress like a billionaire.

They had reached the front steps of the mansion and Wilder lifted the suitcases as he led her into the house. He pushed the screen door open with his foot and then held it open, indicating to her to walk in. Celia did as she was told, entering the mansion with thoughtful steps. She didn’t know what to expect any more.

The inside of the house looked impeccably decorated. It was big, open and airy and had beautiful lace curtains on the windows, bottle green carpeted floors and expensive looking art hanging from the walls. Wilder had followed her in, placing her bags by the front door where he stood.

“Celia?” She heard her grandfather’s voice from somewhere inside the house. Then she saw him, on a wheelchair, sliding into the foyer from one of the rooms near the foot of the long winding staircase. When he came towards her, she didn’t initially recognize him, he looked so different. He was much more frail than she remembered, all his hair had turned white and his eyes looked watery and weak.

“Grandpa!” She cried out and rushed towards him, falling to her knees in front of him. He used to visit her family home in Chicago once a year, every year for the first sixteen years of her life. She had a strong connection with him, waiting for him to visit month after month as a child. He used to take her camping, had taught her to fish and told her made-up stories every night when he tucked her into bed. In the past three years, she hadn’t had a chance to see him. Ever since her own parents passed away in a car accident, and his health started failing, he couldn’t visit her. Then she was caught up with college…and now this.

“Oh grandpa, how are you?” She said, resting her tired head on his warm frail knees. He stroked her hair lovingly, his voice had become thin and weak as well.

“I’m as well as I can be, my darling girl. I’m so happy to see you.” She heard him say. When she looked up at him, he was smiling at her and then he clutched her chin in his hands, just like he used to when she was a child.

“I couldn’t stay away grandpa, I’m here now.” Celia said, her eyes watering as she looked at the old man. The old man from her childhood who used to be so full of energy and kindness and a sense of adventure. She couldn’t believe he was in a wheelchair now.

“Yes you are, you’re finally here.” He said, still smiling at her. All the doubts that Celia had, all the anger she was feeling towards Wilder; had gone. She could see how happy her presence had made her grandfather, and she knew instantly that she had made the right decision.

“But what about your job in New York? Are you sure you can stay here for very long?” He asked her and Celia shook her head.

“Don’t worry about it grandpa, I’ll be fine. That job wasn’t important.” She smiled at him and patted his knees as she straightened herself up.

“I see you’ve met Mr. Moore.” He said then, looking past her and admiringly at Wilder who was still at the door. Celia turned to look at him, caught the grim look on his face and then turned to her grandfather again.

“Yes, he very kindly gave me a lift from the train station. I’m sorry grandpa that I haven’t been in touch, I didn’t know you worked here.” Celia spoke to her grandfather softly again. He still had the same kindly smile on his face.

“I’ve worked here at the ranch for fifty years my child. Ever since I was a young boy and Mr. Moore’s father ran the place.” He said, taking Celia’s hands in his. She noticed how bony and cold his hands were, and a chill ran down her spine. How much longer did he have to live? She didn’t want to think about it.

“I see. It’s a lovely place.” She said, without turning to look at Wilder.

“Mr. Moore has offered to put you up in a room beside mine so we can be close to each other. I’ve lived in that room ever since your father moved out of our house.” He continued, patting Celia’s hands now.

“That is very generous of him.” She said, turning to Wilder finally. He was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs parted wide. He was watching them closely, studying her like he was doing previously. She couldn’t imagine what he might be thinking. All of this was too much to take in.

“Ah, is that your granddaughter, Jack?” A different male voice appeared at the top of the stairs. Celia craned her neck to look up and found a young man walking down quickly.

“Yes, it is, Sir.” Her grandfather said, turning his wheelchair to face the stairs now. Celia stood next to him, with her hands held tightly together. She hadn’t heard anyone else in the house till now.

The man bounced down the stairs with a skip in his step. He looked young, in his early twenties, probably the same age as her. His hair was dark and neatly swept aside, like he had spent some time trying to get the style right. His eyes were the same blue as Wilder’s, but just not as deep or intense. He was shorter than Wilder too, and thinner. He had a handsome face, probably a little too handsome in the classic sense. Although, Celia knew instantly that they were brothers.

His face was clean shaven, while Wilder’s jaw was bristly with the shadow of a beard. This man’s hands and feet weren’t as large and he just had a more friendly demeanor. Celia smiled earnestly at him when he approached her with a hand stretched in her direction.

“I’m Conrad Moore, Wilder’s younger brother. You must be Celia.” He said, grabbing her hand and giving it a light shake. Celia nodded her head.

“Pleasure.” She said, as airily as possible. She wanted to demonstrate to Wilder just how pleasing and friendly she could be.

“You’re from New York? I’ve been there a couple of times. What a great city.” Conrad said, still grasping Celia’s hand in his.

She smiled at him and then turned to look at Wilder.

“Something tells me you didn’t take your brother along there.” She said and Conrad laughed loudly at that, a pleasant variation from Wilder’s reactions to whatever she said.

“Don’t think my brother’s ever been out of town. Ever been on a plane.” Conrad quipped and Celia dragged her hand away from him, a smile still lingering on her face. He had managed to make her feel instantly at home, as compared to Wilder who had made her feel unwelcome from the moment he saw her.

“I’ll take your bags to your room.” Wilder cut in and they all turned to him.

“Thank you.” She said to him, catching the look in his eyes as he turned his face away. As usual, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, like he couldn’t stand the presence of human beings around him.

He walked past her and towards the back of the foyer where he turned to look at them again.

“And Celia, please expect to perform some duties around the house if you’re living here.” He said in a harsh blank voice before turning and walking away with the suitcases.

Celia could feel her heart thumping fast. She felt embarrassed and offended. Why would he assume that she expected free boarding from them? She had all intention to pay for her stay, or help them in any way she could. He hadn’t even asked her.

“Don’t mind Wilder, Celia. He can come across as a bit of a brooding bitter man, just ignore him and you’ll be fine.” Conrad said, and when she looked at him he was smiling at her.

“We’re all glad that you could come down here, I know Jack’s been wanting to see you for very long.” He said and placed a hand on her waist. Celia felt her muscles tense up and she stepped away from him nervously. This man was the complete opposite of his brother; he was probably a little too friendly.

“Of course. I’ll just freshen up a little and see you all in a bit.” Celia said nervously, aware that her cheeks were red again.

“Take your time. Want a game of chess Jack? While we wait for your granddaughter?” Conrad said, turning to her grandfather. Celia looked at them both, her grandfather looked tired and exhausted but he nodded his head nonetheless.

“Sure, let’s go.” He said with a smile at Conrad.

Celia wanted to say something, wanted to offer her grandfather a relaxing bath or a quick nap instead of going out of his way to entertain Conrad, but she remained quiet. It wasn’t her place. She didn’t know these people and she wasn’t sure what her grandfather wanted to do really. Instead she turned on her heels and walked in the direction that Wilder had gone.

Despite the house being large, she found her room easily. Wilder had left her suitcases next to the open door of a bedroom with pastel pink walls. She dragged the bags in and closed the door behind her. The room was tastefully decorated. Fresh flowers had been placed in a crystal vase on the window sill and a full-length mirror greeted her by the en-suite bathroom door.

Celia stared at herself in the mirror, before beginning to undress. She needed to take a shower, her strawberry blonde curls were in a tangled mess. Her brown eyes looked large with exhaustion. Her cheeks looked bright red, to match the color of her lips. It was as a result of the harsh sun; she was tanning quickly.

She slipped out of her blouse and her pencil skirt and rummaged through her suitcase for something more appropriate to wear. This wasn’t New York, this wasn’t her fashion-conscious office, this was a small-town ranch in Texas. She needed to dress accordingly. But she didn’t really own anything for the occasion. A thin cotton tunic dress would have to do, she thought and she laid it on the fluffy looking bed, before walking into the bathroom.

She turned the shower on and the mirror fogged up. Celia slid her hand across it to look at her face again. What had she gotten herself into? She was so far away from home, from where she was comfortable. Here she was surrounded by strangers. By a man who made her gut turn from how utterly handsome he was, but who also made her boil with rage by the things he said to her. And then there was his brother who was friendly and nice, but had something not quite right about him that Celia hadn’t yet figured out.

Either way, this was not the kind of adventure she had planned on having. If only she had paid attention to her grandfather’s life, and then she could have come prepared.

* * *

By the time Celia had showered, changed into the more appropriate dress and dried her hair, it was nearly dusk. She stepped out of the bedroom to be greeted by a strong whiff of ham being baked in the oven. She followed the scent to the dining room, where she found Conrad and her grandfather sitting at a long table, deep in hushed conversation.

She walked in with a smile, but they still hadn’t noticed her. Conrad seemed to be riled up in what he was saying, talking animatedly but quietly to her grandfather, who was sitting silently and listening to the other man, not offering any words of his own.

Celia cleared her throat.

“There you are! Feeling more relaxed?” Conrad jumped out of his chair and rushed towards her. She had noticed the way his eyes glittered when he saw her. His gaze had dropped for a moment to her full breasts, before he looked away, pretending like he hadn’t just studied her body.

“Sit down, here, take this chair.” He was fussing around her as he pulled out a chair next to his. Celia thanked him, smiled and then sat down.

“Mr. Moore is cooking us dinner tonight.” Her grandfather said from across the table. Conrad sat down with a thump next to her, his expensive smelling cologne filling her nostrils. Celia sniffed.

“Who cooks dinner usually?” She asked, a little surprised because she hadn’t quite pictured Wilder as a big chef.

“It’s usually Wilder. In fact, it’s always Wilder. Only because he’s very particular and he doesn’t accept any of our help.” Conrad said, dragging Celia’s attention away from her grandfather.

“Don’t you have a housekeeper?” She asked him, just as Wilder entered the dining room with a tray of ham, his hands covered by thick oven mitts, and an apron tied around his waist. She nearly burst out laughing at the sight. This tall strong muscular man, with his cowboy hat still on his head carrying a tray of ham.

“We’ve had six housekeepers in the past ten years, ever since our mother passed away, and Wilder has managed to drive away all of them.” Conrad said, eyeing his brother with a flourish in his gaze. Wilder grunted in response, not acknowledging his brother’s look.

“It wasn’t Mr. Moore’s fault alone. They probably couldn’t deal with the demands of three bachelors in a big house.” Her grandfather cut in, but Conrad turned to him now.

“Please Jack, don’t sugar coat it for Celia. It was all entirely Wilder’s fault.” Conrad said with a victorious laugh. Celia was about to smile when Wilder banged the tray of ham loudly on the table as he placed it.

“That’s enough, Conrad.” Wilder growled, rage dripping from his voice. Celia’s breath choked in her throat and she didn’t dare look at him, she didn’t want to know what his face looked like right then.

“I’m not your wife, Wilder. I don’t have to listen to all your commands. I have equal share of this house and there is nothing you can do about it.” Conrad said, in an equally menacing voice to his brother.

“I said that’s enough. Behave with some dignity in front of our guests.” Wilder said through gritted teeth, standing over his younger brother. Celia stole a look in Wilder’s direction now and she saw his blue eyes narrowed, a vein thick and angry running down the center of his forehead. He looked powerful, wild and frightening. She looked away from him.

“They’re not our guests.” Conrad said with a light laugh. He reached for the tray of ham and started carving it for his share. “It’s just Jack and his granddaughter.”

Her grandfather cleared his throat.

“Have a seat Mr. Moore, we’re all hungry and the food smells delicious.” He said.

The food did smell good. The ham looked like it was glazed with a special red homemade sauce, and bowls of mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables accompanied it, which Conrad helped himself with and started passing around the table. Wilder took a seat at the head of the table quietly and watched the food being served like a proud parent. Celia smiled to herself, this man was full of mystery, even though she was a little afraid of him. He made her shiver with anticipation, there were goosebumps on her skin.

“Eat your fill, Celia, although I hear that women in the big cities starve themselves to look good.” Conrad interrupted the silence.

Celia licked her lips and turned to look at him with a forced smile on her face. She was starting to dislike him more and more with every passing minute. There was just something unpleasant about him, despite his handsome smiling face and friendly demeanor.

“There’s no reason to stereotype us all.” She said, bringing the crystal glass of water to her lips.

“Why don’t you just leave her alone?” It was Wilder who had said that, and Celia whipped her head to look at him. This wasn’t something that she had expected him to say. Conrad broke into a loud laugh.

“Practice what you preach big brother.” He said, munching on his food.

“How are you feeling grandpa?” Celia spoke directly to him, ignoring the two quarreling brothers on either side of her.

Her grandfather looked tired, barely touching his food. He was drinking too much water and staring at his hands instead of concentrating on his dinner. He looked up at Celia and tried to smile when she spoke to him, but she could see it in his eyes that he was ready for bed, his illness had already got the better of him.

“Just tired, dear girl. I’ll be better in the morning.” He said, and Celia nodded her head.

“Of course. I’ll tuck you in whenever you want to go.” She said, holding her grandfather’s gaze.

“If Jack could have it, he’ll sleep all day, won’t you old sport?” Conrad said. Celia whipped her head to look at him in disgust. She wanted to say something, she was desperate to find the right words to say to this man who was hiding his true personality behind a curtain of fake friendliness.

“He’s sick Conrad. Show him the respect he deserves for his years of service to our family.” Wilder growled, this time he banged the table with a clenched fist. The glass beside his hand shook from the force.

“No, no, I’m fine. Let’s keep eating.” Her grandfather said, while Celia’s nostrils flared from the agony of it all. She was pained for her grandfather. How long did he have to endure this sort of treatment? Had he lived his whole life being treated by the Moore’s this way?

“I am showing him the respect he deserves. Ask him what I’ve offered him. We’re paying for his medical bills, aren’t we? Put a roof over his head.” Conrad’s voice had lost the friendly baritone now and he was snarling his words out at his brother. Wilder stood up, pushing the chair behind him. He was furious, more furious than Celia was.

“That’s enough Conrad. You will shut up right now.” He thundered and Celia clasped the necklace hanging from her neck tightly. What had she found herself in the middle of? What was this world her grandfather was living in?

“Or what? You’ll banish me from your kingdom?” Conrad said and laughed loudly. Celia stared at her grandfather who had turned his eyes to his lap again. He didn’t want to look at what was going on. He didn’t want to be a part of this.

“Conrad, the man is sick!” Wilder continued, placing his clenched fists on the table and leaning forward down the length of it. The table was so long however that he was nowhere close to reaching his brother. Conrad was still laughing; his laugh was ringing manically in Celia’s ears.

“What do you want me to do about it? Change his diapers?” He said, holding his belly as he laughed some more.

Celia couldn’t take it anymore. She stood up with a jerk from the table and threw the napkin from her lap on to the table.

“I’m taking grandpa away, to New York. This is insane.” She cried.

“No, no, Celia, sit down child.” Her grandfather said, but she wasn’t looking at him.

“He doesn’t deserve this. I’m taking him away from this horrid place.” She cried and ran out of the dining room. She could feel hot tears pressing against her eyelids as she ran. Straight through the living room, then through the foyer and out of the house, down the porch…running.

“Celia!” She heard Wilder’s voice behind her. She hadn’t expected anyone to follow her. She needed to be by herself.

“Please leave me alone. I’ve seen enough.” She cried, still keeping her pace up. She wasn’t quite sure where she was going. It had gotten dark by now, she could feel the dusty ground underneath her feet, but all she wanted to do was get as far away from the house as possible.

“Celia. Will you just stop running!” His voice was getting closer; he was catching up to her.

Then she felt his hands on her waist and he had whipped her around. Her body crashed against his wide chest, her hands pressing against his shoulders. He was holding her by her hips, close to himself. In the dark she could see his blue eyes sparkling as he stared straight at her.

“Stop running, Celia.” He said, in a much softer voice. She was out of breath, but nothing before had felt this way before, to just be in his arms.

He was strong, his body was muscular and hard. She could feel the strength in his grip, the rigidity of his thighs against her own soft curves. He released her as suddenly as he had caught her, but she could still barely breathe. The last thing she wanted was to be aroused by Wilder Moore, but that was exactly what was happening.

“I can’t…he needs to come with me.” She said, still breathless from the running. As her eyes adjusted in the dark, she found him staring at her, contemplating her face, her body. His look had changed; he didn’t seem as frightening as before.

“Do what you need to do, Celia. He’s your family. But I want you to know that he will always be welcome in my house. He is like a father to me.” She heard him say the words but she couldn’t believe what he was saying. This was a softer side of Wilder that she could never have imagined in him. Her heartbeat was evening, she licked her lips and gulped.

“That was painful to watch. The way Conrad, the way you…how you were fighting about him, right in front of him.” Celia said, screaming a little, and pointing at the house. Wilder remained calm, he hung his head as though he was ashamed.

“I know. I apologize. I can’t control him, he’s a nuisance. A spoilt brat.” He said harshly. Celia took a few steps towards him, catching his gaze, forcing him to look into her eyes. She didn’t know where she had suddenly manufactured this new strength from. She had been afraid of Wilder, but not anymore. Now she had seen exactly what he was made of.

“You were rude to me. I can handle that. But cruelty towards my dying grandfather…” She said and before she could finish her sentence, Wilder had caught her mouth with his lips. His hands were on her waist again, he had pulled her close to himself and was kissing her, wildly, just like his name. She could feel the scratching of his coarse beard on her cheeks and Celia closed her eyes against the world, she could feel her knees buckling and her heart melting. She had wanted this from the first moment she saw him.

* * *

Wilder was kissing her ferociously, like he had been waiting to kiss her all day. But she barely knew this man, and yet she couldn’t resist him. He was the man of her dreams. She could feel his tongue inside her mouth as he explored it. His hands were on her hips as he held her close, their bodies were pressing against each other.

He pulled away from her, leaving her breathless, and she said his name…Wilder…

“I’m sorry Celia.” She heard his soft heavy voice, while he was tugging his hand away from her. She grabbed him and pulled him to herself again.

“I want this. I want you now.” She said, holding his gaze, asserting herself. She wanted him to see just how much she wanted him. How she hadn’t wanted any man before like this. She hadn’t had anyone before him.

He was kissing her again. Her cheeks, her chin, his lips tracing her skin as he tasted her long pale neck. She arched her back to make space for him. When she opened her eyes, she could see the stars above her, it was night already, and they were all alone in the dark, with the lights from the house visible in the distance.

She felt his chest under her fingertips, and she was slowly undoing his buttons one by one. His shirt flapped open and revealed a strong wide chest. A light dusting of hair lined the middle and she ran her fingers through it.

Slowly she felt his fingers graze her thighs, lift up her dress up to her hips.

“Celia…” He breathed her name in her ears, then bit on her earlobe, taking it into his mouth gently and sucking it. Her fingernails dug into his flesh as she held him. He was making her wet. She had never felt this wet between her legs. The boys she had been with, whom she had kissed, whom she had allowed to touch her breasts…none of them had managed to make her feel like this. She hadn’t wanted to give her virginity to anybody before, not like she wanted to give it to this stranger.

His mouth found its way down her throat to the neck of her dress. He was tracing a wet line down her cleavage, dragging down the fabric with his teeth. She felt the cool night breeze against the flesh of her breasts as he pulled down her lace bra with his mouth. She moved against him, stuck to his hips, while his right hand softly touched the inside of her thigh.

“Wilder, take me now.” She said, with her eyes pressed close. She couldn’t bare it any more. She wanted to feel him against her, feel his hardness in her hands. She could feel the knots in her belly tightening. What was this feeling? An incredible urge to grind her hips against his, invite him in.

His hand found her blazing hot wetness. He stroked her and she winced. Nobody had touched her there before, but somehow this felt natural, like he had always been there, like his fingers had touched her center before. He slipped his forefinger in, slowly at first, his mouth still on her breast. Celia moved in his arms, bending backwards, enjoying the sensation of having a part of him inside her.

Then his mouth was on her nipple. It had hardened from her arousal and he sucked on it, tugging it with his teeth. She yelped with joy at the feeling of having the wetness of his mouth on her nipple. He was pushing his finger deeper into her, preparing her for what was to come. Then his stroking became more powerful, and her wetness grew.

“Do you like that?” He asked, raising his head to look at her. Celia nodded her head at him, her face flushed with desire, her breathing constricted. It was too much to bare, he was torturing her, she wanted him inside her not just his finger.

“I’m ready for you, please, take me now.” She cried, in a breathy whisper. Wilder slid out his finger and in one swift movement unbuckled his belt and undid his jeans. They fell to his ankles, revealing what she had been waiting for. A thick throbbing dick that she couldn’t take her eyes off of. It was strong and erect, calling out to her and never before had Celia wanted something so much.

He pulled her to himself again and lifted her up. It was amazing how light and small she felt in his arms. He held her facing him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hardness was against her soft wet core; she could feel it throbbing against her skin. Celia bit down on her lip as he adjusted her, gripping her waist, pressing her against him.

Then he slid in without warning.

“You wanted this, Celia.” He said as she arched her back again, closing her eyes to feel the full power of him inside her. It was painfully pleasurable, the kind of feeling she had never felt before. He was big and throbbing inside her, she could feel his full length. He had thrust himself in completely, he hadn’t been tender with her this time. And he was right, this was what she had wanted.

She dug her nails into his arms as she clung on to him. He started pumping. She bounced in his arms as he pushed himself in and out of her. His face was darkened; his eyes were strained. It was like he couldn’t control himself when he knew he shouldn’t have been doing what he was doing. She wanted him to want her, just as much as she wanted him, but he was looking at her with anger, like she had made him do this.

He pumped inside her repeatedly, grunting with every thrust. She wrapped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes, knowing that she would never be the same again after this night. But this is how she had wanted to feel; this is how good she wanted a man to make her feel. So, wet that she couldn’t wait to have him inside her, so full to the brim with desire that she never wanted him to stop.

While Celia ran out of breath, Wilder only grunted, he could have gone on all night long. But he was reaching her deep inside, to her core where nobody had ever reached. He pumped and he pumped, while she bounced up and down in his arms, her strawberry blonde curls falling over her bare breasts that he had revealed.

A new feeling overtook her suddenly, she could feel her belly contracting, knotting up tightly, waiting to be released. He was bringing her to orgasm, using himself to manipulate her so that she would never feel this good again.

Celia let out a cry when she came. She hadn’t expected an orgasm to feel like this, this explosive. So, uncontrollable that her juices flowed out of her. Wilder didn’t stop thrusting, deep inside her so that her body shook beyond control. She yelped again as her toes curled in her sandals, and then she felt him explode inside her. His grip on her waist tightened, she felt like he might actually crush her to death. He clutched her hard and he growled like a wild beast as he came, releasing himself, shooting deep within her.

They were both out of breath now, as they began to climb down from their release. Celia was spent, and sweating and lay her head on his bare chest. He held her head to his heart as he breathed hard. He was still inside her.

They remained like that for several moments, their bodies cooling slowly, till she felt him slipping out of her. He released her gently so that her feet touched the ground, she was unsteady on her feet and tried to balance herself like she had just gotten off a rollercoaster.

“You should straighten your clothes.” He said, while keeping his eyes on his own clothes. He pulled his jeans up and started buttoning up his shirt.

Celia licked her lips, suddenly conscious of her exposed breasts and her messed up hair. She hoped against hope that her grandfather would have already gone to bed by now. She didn’t want him to see her like this.

They tidied themselves up in silence, keeping their eyes averted from each other. They both knew that it had been an unplanned surprise, that they barely knew each other, that this shouldn’t have happened. Wilder had resumed his usual annoyed tone of voice; Celia was meek again.

“About this…” He began to say, as he buttoned up the last one near his collar. Celia jerked her head up to look at him, some locks of her hair fell over her eyes and she blew them away.

“We don’t have to discuss it if you don’t want to.” She said, averting her eyes from him again. She could still feel him inside her, she still remembered how good she felt just being in his arms. But he had gone back to being his old self, closed up and unwilling to talk. There was no point dragging this out.

“Good. I’ll see you in the morning. Hope you sleep well.” He said, suddenly turning around and walking back towards the mansion. He had left Celia standing in the dark, staring after him.

She could hear the crickets chirping in the grass now, as she watched him walking up to the mansion, opening the door and going in. It was only then that she started to make her way towards the house. She wanted to avoid him, at least for the night. Because clearly he was avoiding her. She didn’t know what to think. She felt so hot and heavy, so confused with mixed emotions, the desire for Wilder still coursing through her veins. If he returned to her, came to her bed at night she would invite him in, she wanted to taste his mouth again.

Celia walked slowly back to the house, opened the door and found Wilder nowhere in sight. She didn’t even know where his room was, where he slept or what he might be doing.

“Where did you two run off to?” She heard Conrad’s voice behind her. She whipped around with her hand on her heart.

“You scared me!” She cried, her nose twitching at the mere sight of him. He had his hands thrust into the pockets of his pants and he took a few steps in her direction.

“So, did you have a good chat with my respectable brother?” He asked menacingly, it was clear that Conrad had a point to make. Had he seen them? Had he guessed it?

“I haven’t seen Wilder. He must have lost me when I left the house.” Celia said, brushing past him as she tried to get away; but Conrad had caught her hand and yanked her close to him.

“Don’t be in a hurry to leave, Celia. We all love Jack and we love having you here. You are very welcome.” He said with the same smiling face, but this time his face was unnervingly close to hers. She could smell the whisky on his breath that she hadn’t detected earlier. She tugged at her hand, trying to get it free. He held on tightly, smiling at her with a shining face. After a few moments, he finally let her go.

“Jack has gone to bed, so you’re free to do what you want now.” He said as she rubbed her wrist where he had been violently clutching her. “If you’re bored you should come to me, I don’t sleep till the early hours of the morning.” He added.

“I’m very tired. Good night Conrad.” Celia said, before whipping around and rushing to her room. She closed the door behind her and locked it from the inside, silently thankful that he hadn’t followed her. She detested Conrad now more than ever, especially because she knew that she was falling in love with his brother.

* * *

When Celia woke up next morning, she took another shower and changed into a fresh floral dress before leaving her room. It was nine in the morning, but she wasn’t sure what time anybody else in the household woke up. The house looked empty, she couldn’t hear another soul move anywhere.

Eventually, walking around the rooms she caught sight of her grandfather sitting on a rocking chair at the back porch. She joined him outside, placing a hand on his weary shoulder.

“Good morning, sweet child. How did you sleep?” He asked her. She gave him her hand and he held it tightly.

“Very well thank you.” Celia said, smiling at him.

“Sorry I didn’t wait up for you, Mr. Moore, the younger one, he put me to bed.” He explained.

“Good. Sorry I ran out like that. I couldn’t bear to be in the room with them, with both of them there.” She told him, shielding her face against the sun with her hand again.

“I understand, but Celia child, I hope you didn’t mean it when you said that you want to take me away from here.” He continued, staring up at her like a child would look up at a parent.

Celia pressed her grandfather’s hand, unwilling to commit to a response this quickly. She wanted to take him away from here for his own good, and he didn’t seem to understand it.

“I’ve lived here, in this town all my life. This is where I had my family, this ranch is where I worked and what I dedicated my life to. I don’t want to die anywhere else.” He said, looking at her with his watery eyes.

She breathed in deeply and nodded her head.

“I understand grandpa, I just can’t stand that they talk to you like this. That Conrad talks to you like this.” She said, patting his frail hand. “And don’t talk about dying, you’ll be fine.” She added a weak smile. They both knew the truth; he wasn’t recovering from this.

“Tempers were flying last night. Trust me my dear, I’ve been very happy here. Those two boys are like my own grandchildren.” He said, smiling at her the best he could.

The sound of horse hooves distracted them both at that moment and Celia turned to find Wilder on a beautiful chestnut horse, riding towards them like he didn’t mean to stop. He was in a brown shirt, tough jeans, boots and the same hat. He looked like a pro, strong and brave on his horse; and even from this distance Celia could see that he had an actual smile on his face! She was so surprised to see him smiling that she nearly clapped.

He came closer, slowing down now that he saw them on the porch.

“Morning.” He said, tipping his hat at Celia and turning a smiling face at her grandfather.

“Where is my brother?” He asked, stroking the neck of his horse as he steadied himself in front of them. Celia noticed how he was still avoiding her eyes, while she couldn’t think of anything else other than how he had slid into her the previous night. How she had seen him naked, knew how his chest felt under her fingertips.

“He must be sleeping.” Her grandfather said, and Celia could see in his eyes how much he admired the younger man. Wilder clenched his jaws and looked up at one of the windows.

“Celia, pass me that pebble.” He said suddenly, and she nearly stumbled in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to even acknowledge her, leave alone ask her to do something. She saw the pebble he was talking about and she stepped down from the porch and handed it over to him.

Their hands touched when they exchanged the piece of rock. It reminded her in a flash how rough and course his hands were, how large they felt on her body, how he had used that very same finger to make her feel beautiful the previous night.

But Wilder didn’t seem to notice their touch, instead he aimed the pebble at the window he was looking at and threw it. It fell to the ground and he tipped his head to it again, Celia picked it up and handed it to him, a smile forming on her face. He threw it at the window again. It clattered against the pane. They did it all over again a third time till the pane was being lifted up; Conrad’s head stuck out. His dark hair was a mess, his face looked thin and sleepy and he rubbed his eyes as he looked down at them.

“What?” He snapped at his brother.

“You better put on some clothes, little brother. The cattle aren’t going to herd themselves.” Wilder looked up at Conrad, with a bored look on his face. Celia was biting down on her lip, staring at Wilder. He looked handsome in the sun, unrealistically good looking. She couldn’t believe that he had made love to her the previous night, that he had left a little part of himself inside her.

“You are such a pain in the…” Conrad was saying and then he waved at Celia. “Morning Celia, you look beautiful in that dress.”

She forced herself to look up and smile at him.

“Good morning Conrad.” She said and looked away at her grandfather immediately.

“I’ll come down if Celia cooks me some scrambled eggs. That is the only way I’ll get out of bed.” Conrad said with that same wide smile on his face. Celia chuckled at the absurdity of it, and then she looked at her grandfather and at Wilder, with her widened brown eyes. She couldn’t believe that they actually expected her to do it.

“Just give him what he wants. Consider it your chore for the day.” Wilder said and before she could reply to him, he was riding away on his horse again.

“Two toasts, scrambled eggs and a glass of orange juice. You’ll find a tray in the kitchen for them. Bring them up to my room.” Conrad called out to her, before he disappeared back into his room again.

Celia huffed, her mouth hanging open a little as she turned to her grandfather in complete surprise.

“Thank you dear. He’s the baby of the family, quite spoilt. But a good boy you’ll see.” He said, his voice strained, but at least he sounded happy; Celia thought. She sighed deeply, patted his hand and walked back into the house. She couldn’t remember the last time she had made breakfast for anybody but herself.

The eggs and toast were ready in fifteen minutes. She arranged them on a heavy tray, placed a glass of orange juice next to them and started carrying it to the stairs. At the foot of the steps she breathed in deeply and licked her lips. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, she thought. She didn’t want to be alone with Conrad, she didn’t want to be anywhere near him. But it was too late now, she should have said something to Wilder before.

She took the stairs slowly, stretching out time as much as she could till she finally reached the first floor, and to the door of Conrad’s bedroom. How spoilt was he? While his brother worked away at the ranch, without a single air of being wealthy; Conrad on the other hand behaved like he was some sort of prince.

Celia knocked on the door twice, before she heard his voice asking her to come in. The tray shook a little in her hand when she entered.

Conrad’s room was good enough to belong to a prince. With Wilder, it was easy for her to forget just how much money the two brothers had inherited, but Conrad clearly didn’t have any qualms about showing it off.

His bed cover was in a deep red velvet, to match the curtains as well as the upholstery on the chairs that dotted the room. His carpet was thick and Arabian. There were gold fixtures on everything, and an elaborately embroidered dressing gown hung from the back of the door which Celia shut as she entered his room.

Conrad smiled at her, his face still a mess, as he straightened to sit himself up on his bed.

“Smells great, you’re a doll.” Conrad said as she brought the tray closer to him.

“Leave it on my lap.” He said and she placed it gently on his outspread legs. Then he patted the bed next to him, the smile still on his face. Celia remained standing in front of him and tucked a few strands of her curls behind her ears.

“Have a seat Celia.” He insisted, but she didn’t budge.

“I’ll go attend to my grandfather now. Enjoy your meal.” She said curtly and just when she was about to turn around, he stopped her.

“Be careful of my brother.” He had said.

Celia’s brows crossed and she looked at him, remaining still where she stood.

“What are you talking about?” She asked him, watching his every movement closely now. Conrad had begun to scoop spoonsful of scrambled eggs into his mouth, and held a buttered toast in his other hand.

“I mean exactly what I just said, that you should be careful of Wilder. I’ve seen the way you look at him.” He said, munching on his toast. Celia straightened her neck and raised her chin.

“You really shouldn’t accuse me of things you don’t know about. I hardly know your brother, or you. I’m here for my grandfather, to look after him.” She said, making sure that she sounded calm and confident. The last thing she wanted Conrad to smell, was fear.

“Sure, that’s why you came here. But wouldn’t you want to be looked after yourself?” He asked, smirking at her again. Celia kept her mouth pressed close. She couldn’t be sure what he was talking about and she wanted him to explain.

“You quit your job, a promising career. You can’t be sure how long old Jack will live, what will you do when you go back to New York after a year? Two years? You’ll be too old for the fashion industry, some new twenty-three-year-old would have taken your job.” Conrad continued, enjoying himself on her account.

“I’m not sure where you’re going with this.” Celia interrupted him before he could say anything else.

Conrad gave a small laugh.

“Just that you’ve had a chance to get a look around the house, and I know you like what you see. It could be yours.” He said. Celia’s head jerked up sharply to him, what did he mean? What was he talking about? She didn’t get a good feeling from all this.

“Don’t look so surprised honey. I’m only offering you a position by my side.” Conrad laughed again.

“What does that mean?” She cried, losing her temper at him.

“Be with me, give me company in this lonely deserted place. Maybe someday we could marry, have children…who knows? For now, you could have this whole house at your disposal and my protection from my brother, just by sleeping with me.” Conrad had pushed his tray away from himself and was looking at Celia with glittering blue eyes.

She could feel her cheeks flush; her nostrils were flaring.

“Why would I need protection from Wilder?” She asked him, ready to throw a lamp at his head because of the things that he was saying.

“Because ever since Wilder’s wife left him, he has hated women. You won’t be safe around him alone.” Conrad said, his face was serious and he wasn’t smiling any more.

But Celia was running out of the room. The door shut with a bang behind her as she ran down the stairs. She wished she had never gotten on that train from Austin.

* * *

Celia knew she needed to talk with Wilder. She hadn’t, she didn’t want to believe a word that Conrad had said to her. The fact that Wilder could be dangerous, that he had a wife who had left him…none of that made sense. The way she had felt the previous night in Wilder’s arms, she couldn’t have felt if she was afraid of him, if he was the kind of person who might hurt her.

Wilder was nowhere in sight. Celia prepared a bowl of soup for her grandfather and then set off towards the back of the house to look for him. She crossed the porch, then walked along the stables, she thought she could hear his voice in the back, talking to the animals. She needed to see him. This was happening too fast, she had only just met him, but she had given him her virginity, she was falling in love with a man she barely knew. But even if she didn’t know him, she knew that Conrad couldn’t be truthful. Wilder wasn’t the man his brother thought he was.

Celia stopped when she saw him. Wilder was several feet deep in a pit of wet mud with a rope in his hand. He had rubber boots on, but his jeans were nonetheless stained and muddy. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and his hat was tipped back on his head. He was oblivious to the scorching sun.

She called out to him, but he didn’t seem to hear her.

“Wilder!” She yelled again, and this time he turned slowly where he was standing. Even from the distance Celia noticed how his eyes changed when he saw her. He remained standing where he was, not making a move in her direction. He wanted her to come to him.

“Can I talk to you?” She asked, panting. Her nerves were wrecked, she didn’t want Conrad to see them talking…and mostly, she was excited to see him. That was the effect that Wilder had on her, every time she laid her eyes on him.

Wilder had still not moved, waved or said a word. Almost like he couldn’t understand her.

“Wilder! Can we talk?” She said again.

“Sure.” She heard him say, but he still wasn’t willing to come to her.

Celia lifted up her dress with both her hands and confidently stepped into the pit, her feet sinking several inches. She was wearing a pair of leather sandals which were sure to be ruined by what she was doing now, but she didn’t care. She needed to get this over with.

She strode towards him, dragging her feet through the mud, aware that it was staining her long pale calves. Aware also that Wilder was looking at her, with a strange smile on his face. Why did he like to watch her embarrass herself?

“This is ridiculous. Why wouldn’t you just come over there?” She said, as she walked towards him. The wet mud splashed on her dress too and Celia had to try very hard not to wince. When she looked up she noticed that Wilder was studying her dress, her mud stained legs, her body.

“You wanted to talk to me, I didn’t see the point of going to you.” He said, tugging at his rope, at the other end of which a muddy sheep was tied.

Celia sighed and met his gaze. His deep blue eyes were boring into her, she licked her lips and noticed the way he watched her every movement.

“I just wanted to ask you, well I wanted to talk to you.” Celia said, fumbling with her words. She was convinced that she needed to talk to him, but when it came to it she didn’t know exactly what she was going to say. She hadn’t come prepared for this conversation.

“You’ve mentioned that already. What did you want to say?” Wilder asked. His brows had crossed and he looked irritated, like she was wasting his time.

“Just…well, about…” She tried to form the words again, looking about her, trying to find the right way to broach the subject. But Wilder interrupted her.

“Is this about what happened last night? Because I thought you were fine with us not talking about it.” He said sternly, like he was losing his patience with a naughty child. Celia felt offended. She had expected him to treat her with a little more respect after what had happened, after he had made it so clear to her that he wanted her.

“It is in a way.” She said sharply, still clutching her dress up above her knees. Wilder shook his head, like he was disappointed and then looked away from her.

“I thought you weren’t going to be one of those girls.” He said, with a sarcastic smirk on his face.

“What girls?” Celia asked, her pride had been wounded by now.

“Who would care about something like that.” He continued and their gazes met again.

“How dare you? You thought I was the kind of girl who just spreads her legs for anybody?” She said, her voice tearing as she spoke. Didn’t he know that he had taken her virginity? That there had been nobody before him? How could he say something like this?

She heard him laugh. A small laugh, but one that hurt her soul. He thought all of this was a joke!

“So it meant nothing to you? It was done, gone, a thing of the past for you?” Celia was yelling now, trying to hold back her temper but she couldn’t.

“What else was it supposed to be? We had just met. I don’t even know you.” Wilder said, clicking his tongue at his sheep. He still had that smirk on his face that was driving Celia crazy. She couldn’t believe it. Could Conrad actually have been right?

“If I did know you I would have known that you have a wife.” She said, a little more calmly now. Wilder’s face changed instantly. The smirk disappeared and he lunged at her. The rope had dropped from his hand and he was holding her, his hands on both her arms. Squeezing tightly. She could feel the strength in his arms, how easy it would be for him to hurt her.

But Celia looked back at him boldly, meeting his eyes directly.

“What did you just say to me?” He asked, growled.

“That I know about your wife, now. I know you’re a married man. You drove your wife away. She left you.” Celia continued. Her voice was choking in her throat as she felt the pressure of his hands on her arms. It wasn’t painful yet but it would be if he kept holding her like that any longer.

Wilder’s teeth were gritted as he looked at her. Their faces were mere inches apart. She could see the small dark pupils in the center of his blue eyes, how his thin red lips curved on the sides, how his jaw was peppered with a soft dark beard that he hadn’t shaved today.

“Who told you this? Conrad?” Wilder growled again, his grip tightening on her arms. Celia was breathing heavily again. A few more seconds and she decided she would scream, scream at the top of her lungs and hope that someone might hear her.

“Let me go, you brute!” She said. And suddenly he did.

Wilder released his grip on her arms and Celia breathed in deeply. She used her hands to rub the spots where he had been holding her. Red spots marked her pale skin there as she looked at him with violent eyes.

“So it is true.” She said, her nostrils were flaring. Wilder stepped away from her, unwilling to look at her face any more.

“Just get out of my sight.” He said in a low haggard voice.

“So you hate women because your wife left you? What did you do to her?” Celia asked, unconcerned that her dress was now trailing the mud and was essentially ruined.

“I don’t want to talk about my wife with you. Just get out of here!” This time he had yelled, barked at her. She could see that his face had turned red and the veins on the sides of his neck had popped out. He was angry, enraged and now she could see how frightening Wilder could be when he was actually mad at someone.

“You don’t want to talk about her with me because I mean nothing to you!” She yelled back at him, her own throat beginning to grow hoarse now.

“That’s right. You mean nothing! Just leave!” He yelled again, and Celia turned on her heels and started wading back through the muddy pit towards dry land. She didn’t bother to hitch her dress up. She didn’t care about anything anymore. She was so ashamed of herself, so disappointed in thinking that the previous night had meant something to both of them. Conrad was right. His brother was a maniac.

“You’ve come here to look after your grandfather.” Wilder called out to her just as she stepped out of the pit. Celia turned to look at him once more, her breasts were rising and falling with every painful breath that she took.

“That is what you’re here for, and don’t forget that he just works for us. Remember your place here.” Wilder said and then turned around, tugging his sheep out of the pit on the other side.

She couldn’t believe what she had just heard. The things he had just told her. He wanted to remind her that she was beneath them. That he had slept with her only because he could, not because of any other reason. At least Conrad was asking permission, he wanted to make a deal, he wasn’t just seducing her and then flinging her to the side after it was done.

Celia started walking back to the house, leaving a trail of drying mud as she went. She wanted to cry, to scream, to punch a wall…anything to make this feeling of humiliation go away. Wilder had violently put her in her place. He had a wife. He hated women, he couldn’t stand her. What was she even thinking? That a man like him could want anything more than a one night stand in the dark?

Her grandfather was still sitting on the porch when Celia climbed the steps back.

“Where have you been? You’re all muddy. Were you in the pig sty?” He asked her, a humorous smile appearing on his face. She tried to smile back at him. He was the reason she was here. Wilder had reminded her of it, she needed to stick to her duties. But Celia couldn’t smile, she couldn’t forget the way he had gripped her arms, like he didn’t care if she got hurt or not.

“I was just talking to Wilder. I’m going to quickly wash up and then we can go for a walk out front. You can be in your wheelchair.” She said, wiping her soiled hands on her dress.

“I would like that very much. I’ll wait for you here.” Her grandfather said as she pushed open the screen door and stepped back in the house.

“Oh, Celia. How is your day coming along?” She had bumped into Conrad who had just climbed down the stairs. It had been at least an hour or more since breakfast. He had taken that much time to get ready, and he wasn’t even dressed for a day out in the fields with the animals. He looked like he was ready for a game of golf.

“I’m taking grandpa for a walk. Do you want to join us?” She found herself asking him.

* * *

“I’m sorry if I came across as mean to you and Jack last night.” Conrad said.

The three of them were walking at snail’s pace, with Celia pushing her grandfather’s wheelchair. Conrad was beside her, being his usual pleasant self.

“Apology accepted.” She said curtly. Celia still hadn’t quite forgotten about the things Wilder had said, and she still felt like her ego was bruised. However, Conrad’s politeness and the attention he was giving her was helping the situation. Her grandfather kept dozing off as they walked, giving Conrad and her enough freedom to talk.

He had been telling her about the ranch, how his grandfather had built it from scratch. The stories from his childhood sounded like a lot of fun, like the kind of childhood any kid would be envious of. He also spoke very little of his older brother which was good for her because Celia didn’t exactly want to talk about him.

“I’m glad because I felt very bad about it, and also how I behaved with you.” He continued, in a softer voice. He was being careful of how much her grandfather could hear, although the old man had fallen asleep again, enjoying the lulling motion of being walked in peace.

Celia looked ahead of her and nodded her head.

“I was just shocked by it all. I guess I was tired from the journey too, and I didn’t know what to expect.” She replied.

“I imagine you just wanted to spend some time with your grandfather, and instead you were stuck with two rogue men.” Conrad said with a laugh, and Celia smiled.

“I wouldn’t call you that.” She said with a glitter in her eyes as she turned to him. He was handsome, very handsome she noted. His dark hair shone brilliantly, and he shared the same blue eyes as his brother. Conrad’s looks were just softer; he was more pale and dressed more luxuriously. And around Conrad, Celia didn’t feel afraid.

But what was also missing was the thrill. She could feel it. There was no electricity in the air, a look from Conrad didn’t send shivers down her spine, she wasn’t undressing him with her eyes, the way she did Wilder.

“Did you give it any thought?” He interrupted her thoughts. Celia cleared her throat and crossed her brows at him.

“Give what any thought?”

“What I proposed to you this morning.” He said, and she immediately felt silent. He wasn’t being offensive this time, he was saying it more gently, like he was being earnest in his request.

“I can’t give it any thought till I fully understand what your intentions are.” Celia said, in a whisper. She too was now conscious of her grandfather overhearing their conversation. He was lightly snoring in the wheelchair now as they walked, but she couldn’t be too careful.

“Well, my intentions are to have you by my side. Spend time with you, much like we are doing now, except that of course…I would want more.” Conrad said and she interrupted him.

“I understand, but what I don’t get is why you’re asking me. I’m sure you have the money and the capacity to go to a different city, live elsewhere…if you’re this lonely, and if you need company.” Celia said, her brows still crossed. She was calming down now. It was nice being able to have a proper conversation with someone without being threatened or shooed away. Conrad was definitely much better behaved than his brother.

Conrad gave a short laugh, and he looked at Celia again, shrugging his shoulders.

“I have no other choice but to be here. If I leave the ranch now, my brother will take everything. He will work behind my back and make sure I don’t get what is rightfully mine. I can’t just leave all this behind. He hates me. He’s always detested me because my parents loved me more.” Conrad explained.

Celia licked her lips and looked ahead again. She didn’t know what to think. She knew what Conrad wanted from her, but what was it worth to her? Why would she do this? Wouldn’t she have to like him first? Be attracted to him if she was going to get into an arranged relationship with him?

He had noticed her thinking and he suddenly placed a hand on her waist. Celia looked up at him sharply, but she didn’t draw herself away.

“Look, Celia.” He said, ignoring the surprise in her eyes. He was comfortable touching her, and she forced herself to feel comfortable in it as well. If she was thinking about giving this relationship a shot, she had to try and coach herself to like him. What did she have to lose?

“I can take care of you, for as long as you want to stay here. I will take care of Jack, and I want to care for you too.” He continued, and she blinked at him.

“You mean, you want to pay me for my services?” She said sharply, and now tugged herself away from him so that his hands dropped to his sides. What was wrong with these two brothers? She thought, biting down on her lip, why did they both have the completely wrong impression of her?

“No, not like that. Not pay you. Just take care of your cost of living here, for as long as you need. Maybe you can start saving some money for later, if you want to go back to New York. And if you don’t want to go back, you can stay here for as long as you like.” Conrad reached for Celia’s hand and held it tightly in his. He squeezed it, looking kindly into her eyes. She stared back at him, her nose twitching with confusion.

“I’ll have to think about it.” She said, drawing her hand away sharply.

Conrad smiled at her and nodded his head.

“Of course. And in answer to your question about why I chose you, and not someone else…well, isn’t that easy to see? You’re beautiful. The most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I think I wanted you from the first moment I saw you. There’s no use in denying that.” He went on, and Celia felt her cheeks flush. She looked away from him, suppressing a smile as best she could.

“I can see you’re glad to hear that. You should be, because that is the truth.” Conrad continued and Celia pushed the wheelchair harder.

“Thank you for the compliment, Conrad. But I don’t want to make a decision in a hurry. It’s not something that comes to me naturally.” Celia replied, keeping her eyes on the road. They had made a turn in the direction of the house again. She wanted to get started on dinner. Wilder hadn’t asked her to, but she wanted to cook her family’s recipe of spicy sausage casserole for her grandfather.

“Of course, I didn’t think it did come to you naturally. I just wanted us both to benefit out of this. I don’t see any reason why not. Neither of us will have anything to lose.” He said hurriedly as they walked along. Celia pursed her lips and drew in a deep breath. He was right, she had nothing to lose. Especially now when Wilder had made it very clear to her that she needed to stay away from him.

When they reached the house, Wilder was standing on the porch with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs set apart.

Celia could see the fury in his eyes, just from the way he was glaring at them. Her grandfather had begun stirring in the wheelchair, slowly waking up from the deep peaceful sleep he just had.

“Where have you been?” Wilder snarled when they came into earshot. Celia’s muscles grew tight; her body was reacting to his presence again. More than afraid, she wanted to hate him. And Wilder was making it very easy for her to do so.

“We just took old Jack for a walk there, where have you been brother?” Conrad asked cheerily, ignoring Wilder’s obvious rage.

“That is what Celia was doing. What were you doing Conrad? When you should have been tending to the pigs? The horses needed to be groomed too. You’ve been missing since the morning. It’s past lunch now.” Wilder took a few steps down towards them, his arms still crossed, his chest heaving. He hadn’t looked at Celia once.

“Actually, I asked him to join us.” She said, and the two brothers turned to her. Conrad had a smile on his face, while Wilder’s nostrils were flared. He was looking at her with disgust, like she had just said something filthy.

“Why? He needs to be helping me with the running of the ranch.” Wilder said, taking a few steps in her direction. Celia felt the instant appearance of goosebumps on her arms, the hair at the back of her neck stood up. The moment Wilder had looked at her directly, she felt like her knees would buckle. She clutched the handle bars of her grandfather’s wheelchair tightly for support.

“I didn’t know my way around, so I asked Conrad to show me. One day won’t make much of a difference, will it?” Celia looked past Wilder’s shoulder at Conrad who looked back at her with a pleased expression on his face. She raised her chin up at Wilder, who was glaring at her still.

“You had Jack with you. Jack knows these parts better than Conrad. My brother rarely leaves his room unless he wants something.” Wilder spat the words out, and without waiting for Celia to reply he whipped around at Conrad.

“You need to start pulling your weight around here Conrad, this is the last time I’m telling you.” Wilder said, walking up to his brother’s face now.

Celia saw her grandfather move in his wheelchair. She could see that he was beginning to grow uncomfortable. He didn’t want to see the boys fighting.

“I’m going to cook us some sausage casserole for dinner. You’re relieved of your cooking duties for tonight, Wilder.” Celia said, turning up the cheer in her voice. Wilder and Conrad both looked at her and she forced a smile on her face.

“Sausage casserole?” It was her grandfather who spoke.

“Yeah, the one grandma taught mama, remember? I’ll make it just the way you like it grandpa.” Celia bent forward to smile at her grandfather, who tickled her chin and she giggled.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if anybody needs me.” She said as she climbed up the porch steps, leaving all the men behind.

“I can’t wait for dinner, Celia.” She heard Conrad say and she turned to smile at him. Wilder grunted and walked away, shoving his brother in the shoulder as he did it. After Wilder, had walked away from them, Conrad raised his eyebrows at her and shook his head. She was still standing on the porch, looking at Wilder’s brooding figure disappear into the distance. He hadn’t once turned to look at any of them.

“What did I tell you? If he could he would see me drown in a puddle.” Conrad said and smacked his lips. Celia turned and walked back into the house. She needed to think. She needed to seriously think about everything that was happening.

While walking to the kitchen she tried to lay out the points of detail. She was attracted to Wilder, but he didn’t want her. He wanted to be left alone. The person who wanted her, who wanted her madly; was Conrad. In fact, Wilder might even be dangerous, while Conrad could be good for her. Wasn’t it a better decision to be with the person who wants you? Instead of yearning for the man who doesn’t even care that you exist?

Celia shook her head as she walked into the kitchen, grabbing Wilder’s apron off the hook and tying it around her waist. Tonight, she was just going to concentrate on cooking a hearty meal for her grandfather, the rest could wait till the next day.

* * *

By the time Celia had finished cooking dinner it was dark outside again. Her grandfather had joined her in the kitchen and she was having a great time chatting with him. Celia had nearly forgotten all her troubles with the two brothers, laughing and joking with her beloved grandpa. When she laid out the plates on the dining table, and had placed the casserole in the center; she left her grandfather in the room and went in search of the two Moore brothers.

They had to be outside, she thought, and wiping her hands on the apron Celia walked to the back of the house towards the porch. But she stopped in her tracks when she heard raised voices. They were fighting again. It was Wilder’s enraged voice that had made her stop in her tracks and she pressed her back to the wall and stood to listen.

“Watch your step, little brother.” She could sense that Wilder was speaking through gritted teeth.

“You’re just jealous because you know that Celia will accept my offer.” Conrad’s light hearted voice came through. This time too it was Wilder who was the more furious one, while Conrad was more calm and relaxed. Surprisingly, he wasn’t very afraid of his brother.

“She will not, and if she does then you’re doomed.” Wilder spoke, still angry, still yelling but trying to keep his voice low at the same time. Conrad gave out a shrill laugh.

“What is even your problem, Wilder? It’s not like you can have her.” Conrad said, sending a thrill down Celia’s spine. It was still their little secret. The truth was that Wilder did have her, he had her virginity, he was the only man she had given in to. She wanted to hear what he had to say, wanted to hear it in his voice. Wilder was silent for a few moments, while Celia tried to suppress a smile.

“What makes you think I even want her?” He spat out, wiping the smile off Celia’s face. She felt her lips twitch, she had heard the hatred in Wilder’s voice. He really didn’t care. He regretted what had happened that night. And he wasn’t about to confess to his brother.

“Because nobody else wants you. Because your wife left you and you have nothing to look forward to in your life.” Conrad said, still with the laugh in his voice. His words had stung Celia as well. They were harsh words, words nobody deserved to hear. But perhaps Wilder deserved it. Perhaps he was the kind of man who deserved to have his brother say this to him.

“Don’t talk about Katherine. You have no right to talk about Katherine.” Wilder’s voice was even more enraged now. Celia heard a light thud, Wilder had pushed Conrad to the wall. But Conrad only laughed. He enjoyed inciting violence in his brother, he enjoyed the reaction. Celia’s breath was caught in her throat. She was eavesdropping on a private conversation. She shouldn’t have been listening to any of this.

“I have as much right to talk about Katherine as you do.” Conrad said when he stopped laughing.

“Shut up. Stop talking about her.” Wilder was yelling.

“You made Katherine so unhappy that she had no other choice. She was so lonely and angry with you that…” Conrad continued, ignoring his brother’s rage.

“You were eighteen. You were a child. She had no right. You didn’t know what you were doing, but she did.” Wilder was yelling again, but Celia could tell that he wasn’t yelling at his brother. He was yelling at the world, at himself.

“I was old enough to know that she wanted me. And you made that happen. You pushed her towards me.” Conrad continued, and Celia gasped. She covered her mouth with her hand. Wilder’s wife had slept with his brother. That was why she left. That was why Wilder was so bitter.

“That’s enough, Conrad.” Wilder said, he was breathing hard but his voice had dropped.

“Are you ashamed, big brother? That your beautiful new bride wanted your eighteen-year-old brother more than she wanted you?” Conrad continued, laughing a little.

Celia was at the verge of tears. She couldn’t stand the things that Conrad was saying. She couldn’t imagine the pain that Wilder was in.

“I said, that’s enough.” Wilder growled, but Conrad only laughed.

“You’ll never get over it. And you’ll never have Celia. Because she doesn’t want you.” Conrad added.

“And I don’t want her!” Wilder yelled, his voice thick with emotion and anger. Celia wanted to scream too, but she couldn’t.

“Good. Because it’s not happening.” She heard Conrad say and then the shuffle of his feet. He was climbing down the porch and walking away from Wilder. He had left his older brother to stand and brood by himself.

Celia allowed a few minutes to pass. She could sense that Wilder was still out there. He was breathing loudly, harshly; like he was trying to force himself to calm down. Like he was trying to forget the things that Conrad had just said to him. Then she snuck out from her position behind the wall and opened the porch door.

“Wilder?” She called out to him in a soft voice.

She could see him standing at the edge of the porch, looking out at the ranch. He was leaning slumped against a wooden arch, completely unaware of Celia’s presence there. When he heard her voice, he whipped around to find her. Even in the dark dusky light she could see that his eyes were bloodshot and red, he hardly had any control over his breathing.

“What do you want, Celia?” He hurled the words at her.

“I just wanted to speak with you for a bit. I just wanted to see how you were doing.” She said kindly, hoping that he would see that she was there in peace. She didn’t want to fight with him. She had felt just as hurt by Conrad’s words as he probably was. She could physically feel his pain.

Wilder’s sandy blonde hair fell thickly over his eyes; he wasn’t wearing his hat. His blue eyes looked small and dark. He was breathing heavily, with his lips parted.

“No, Celia, what do you really want?” He repeated himself. She was confused, her brows were furrowed. What was he asking her? She took a few steps towards him, and he straightened himself, watching her every move.

“You know what I want. You felt it.” She said softly, walking up close to him now. She could see that his gaze had dropped to her breasts. Was he as aroused as she was? Did he feel the same way around her as she did when he was near? Were there goosebumps on his flesh too? She wished he knew the effect he had on her, even with just his voice.

Wilder remained quiet, and Celia extended her hand, gently daring to touch his cheek. His skin was ruddy, tanned and rough. He hadn’t shaved still, and his emerging beard was rough but still quite short. She stroked it delicately, enjoying the tingling feeling of its coarseness on her skin. She wanted his mouth on hers. She wanted to thrust her tongue into his mouth. She wanted that beard to chafe her skin as he licked her neck.

“Wilder…” She breathed his name. He didn’t move, he was standing very still, looking at her face, at her body.

She placed another hand on his chest, slipping in a finger through the gap in his shirt so that she could feel the solid muscles on his chest. Celia felt herself growing wet immediately. She wanted him again. She wanted to feel him inside her. He was the most delicious man she had ever met.

“I do want you. Conrad doesn’t know what I want.” She dared to say, and watched as his eyes grew wild. He looked angrier than before, but only licked his lips, studying the curves of her jaw, her lips. She could see he wanted her, he was growing in his pants. She dropped her gaze to watch it grow. She liked the power she had on him, as much as he tried to resist her, he couldn’t. His body wouldn’t let him.

She turned her face to him and smiled.

“Say you want me too.” She whispered. He hadn’t said a word yet, but focused his attention on her cleavage. Celia dropped her hand from his chest to the bulge in his pants and he grabbed her by the wrist. That same strength had returned to his arm, and Celia nearly gasped.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Wilder hissed, bringing his face close to her face.

“I know you want me, Wilder.” Celia cried, her voice tearing as she squirmed under his fiery gaze.

“You are making plans with my brother. You’re going to be Conrad’s woman, what are you doing touching me?” Wilder hissed again. Celia tried jerking her hand out of his grip but he held her tightly.

“That isn’t true, I haven’t told him anything. He says he wants me, but I want you.” She tried explaining, but Wilder was holding her close to him, tightening his grip on her hand.

“No, you listen to me Celia. I won’t allow you to play us. I’m not as foolish as Conrad. You can have each other, you both deserve it. Just leave me alone. You hear?” He let go of her hand suddenly, and the force of it nearly threw Celia off her balance. She rocked back gently and then Conrad pushed past her, back into the house.

She was left out in the porch, alone again in the dark, for a second time by him. She couldn’t understand it. Why was he treating her like this? What did he want from her? Why was he so afraid of admitting that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him?

Footsteps up ahead distracted her, and Celia drew in quick breaths. It was Conrad coming up to the porch again, and she ran her fingers through her strawberry blonde curls in impatience. At least he was a friendly face.

“There you are, my beautiful girl.” Conrad climbed up to the porch two steps at a time. Before she had the chance to say anything he had pulled her in close to himself and was kissing her. Celia’s face froze as their lips pressed together. She wasn’t kissing him back but Conrad didn’t seem to notice. He kissed her, and she noticed that he had cold lips, but she didn’t struggle in his arms.

“Jack needs his dinner.” Wilder’s voice broke them apart, and Celia gasped, hiding her face away from him. He was standing behind her. He had crept up on them quietly. His voice was calm now, accepting and resigned.

“Sure, let’s go have dinner.” Conrad said with a flourish and she felt his hand on hers, tugging her in his direction. Celia kept her face hidden from Wilder as she was pulled past him into the house. She couldn’t bear to look at him. He had caught her kissing Conrad, mere minutes after she had claimed that she wanted him instead, after she had just tried to seduce him.

“That smells great.” Conrad said, tugging her gently towards the dining room. Celia smiled quickly and turned her face away from him. She had avoided looking at Wilder successfully, but it also meant that she didn’t know what he was thinking, she hadn’t seen his eyes. He must really hate her now, she thought, now his suspicions were definitely proven correctly. Now Wilder would be sure that she was playing the two brothers, that she was only trying to seduce him for her own gains.

Celia could barely breathe. She didn’t know how she would share dinner in the middle of these two men.

* * *

They were eating their dinner in complete silence. Not one of them had spoken a word yet, except Celia’s grandfather who was so happy to taste the casserole that he couldn’t hide the glow from his face.

“This is exactly like my wife’s, your grandma’s. Thank you, Celia, my child you have made me so happy.” Jack was happy, smacking his lips as he took each bite of his dinner. Celia pushed the food around in her plate in silence, only acknowledging her grandfather’s compliments with a weak smile.

Conrad was sitting next to her, not bothering to hide the smug smile on his face. He had just stolen a kiss from her, and had seated himself beside her. In his mind, it was all but accepted that she and him were going to be together.

Wilder was at the head of the table again, concentrating on his food, not looking at anybody. Celia couldn’t look at him either. She was too ashamed, too upset, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. She wished she hadn’t come here, that she had never met Wilder…then a man like Conrad would have been more than good enough for her.

Jack finished his food and pushed his plate away from him.

“I’m stuffed. That was brilliant.” He said, rubbing his stomach energetically.

“You are a star.” Conrad turned to her, wiping the corners of his mouth with a tissue paper. Celia smiled again, looking at Wilder with short bursts of glances. He had still not finished his food; he wasn’t looking up.

“You have a talented granddaughter, Jack. She really knows her stuff.” Conrad continued with the compliments. Celia wasn’t blushing, she wasn’t even paying attention to his words.

Wilder suddenly stood up from his chair, picking the half-eaten plate of casserole from in front of him.

“I’ll do it.” Celia stood up too.

“No, I’ll tidy up.” Wilder said, without looking at her.

“But you haven’t even finished it. Didn’t you like it? Was it too spicy?” Celia asked, wringing her hands together.

“Don’t be offended by Wilder, Celia. He doesn’t appreciate anything that anyone does for him.” Conrad commented. The two brothers exchanged bitter looks, while Conrad remained seated. Wilder took his plate and his empty glass from the table and disappeared into the kitchen.

Jack was still clutching belly, and he smiled at his grand-daughter.

“Why don’t I get you ready for bed instead then, grandpa?” Celia asked him.

“Before you do that, can we have a private chat first, Celia?” Conrad had placed a hand on hers, and she looked at him. His blue eyes sparkled in their friendliness. His dark hair was brushed back and glistening in the light from the yellow lamps in the dining room.

“Do you mind, grandpa? To wait a bit?” Celia asked him.

Jack looked at her, with concern in his eyes. Then he looked at Conrad. He wasn’t sure what to think of the whole thing.

“Oh don’t look so frightened, Jack! I’m not going to gobble up your grand-daughter.” Conrad stood up from his chair with an accomplished laugh.

“Of course I don’t mind. But what are you two going to talk about?” Jack asked, turning to Celia again. She gulped, aware that her grandfather had his suspicions. Moreover, there was no way that she was going to tell him about the little arrangement she was discussing with Conrad. What would he think of her?

“You don’t have to concern yourself with that, old sport.” Conrad said and grabbed Celia’s hand again, leading her out of the drawing room into the living room.

When they got there, Celia pulled her hand away from his.

“You can’t behave like that in front of grandpa.” She said, twisting her eyebrows in annoyance at him. She was trying so hard to like him, trying so hard to appreciate his affection for her…but she couldn’t, not when she was feeling the way she did about Wilder.

“Behave like what?” Conrad asked, standing very close to her.

“I don’t want him to know about us.” Celia said, looking about her nervously. Conrad smiled and then placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Does that mean you’re saying yes?” He asked. Celia licked her lips and looked at him.

“No, not yet. I’m still thinking about it.” She said.

Conrad’s face darkened immediately. The smile had disappeared and was replaced by a sour scorn.

“What is taking you so much time to decide? I’m just handing over an easy-going life to you, for almost nothing more in return. I know you enjoyed that kiss. I know you want to sleep with me. Teasing me isn’t working, Celia.” He spoke quickly, harshly and she flinched from the words he was flinging at her. She suddenly wanted to cry.

“I’m not teasing you. It’s just not easy for me. I feel like a prostitute doing this.” She said and Conrad smiled, squeezing her shoulder.

“No…don’t think like that.” He said and placed a finger under her chin, lifting her face up at him. “That is not who you will be to me. This is a chance at a legitimate relationship. I need you and you need me.” He said, but she didn’t reply.

“Make up your mind Celia. I’ll be waiting for you in my room, otherwise we will have to make different living arrangements for you and Jack.” He said and drew his hand away from her quickly. Celia gulped again as she watched Conrad leave the room in a hurry. He was threatening her now! He was going to have her grandfather and her thrown out of their home if she didn’t comply with him. Where would they go? Back to New York? But her grandfather didn’t want to be anywhere else but here. Such a thing would break his heart. She felt like crying, she was growing desperate. What had she gotten herself into?

She turned on her heels and walked back into the dining room to be with her grandfather. Celia was fighting back tears, keeping them back for his sake.

But he wasn’t there.

“Grandpa!” She yelled out, in a sudden fear that something had happened to him.

Celia ran out of the dining room, towards his bedroom, her feet sliding over the oak floors as she rushed. Celia flung open the door to his bedroom. And there he was, and so was Wilder. Her grandfather was sitting on the edge of his bed, with his feet dipped into a broad bucket of water. Wilder was at his feet, scrubbing the older man’s feet with a coarse sponge. They had both looked up at Celia when she burst in through the door.

She couldn’t stop the tumult of emotions that rushed into her heart when she saw them there. Never in her wildest dreams would she had imagined Wilder like this, so gentle and caring towards anyone. They were natural in each other’s company. It was evident that Wilder had done this for her grandfather before, that he probably even did it quite often.

Her hand flew to her mouth as she stared at them. She knew that her eyes were watering.

“Come in dear, Mr. Moore is just scrubbing my feet. I can’t reach them when I take my bath you see.” Her grandfather said kindly.

Celia was looking at Wilder, her brown eyes wide, and he was looking back at her too, innocently.

“Do you need some help?” She managed to say.

Wilder turned around, gave the older man’s feet a final scrub and then stood up, lifting the bucket up by its handle.

“Thank you, but we’re all done here. You can tuck him in if you like. I’ve helped him change already.” Wilder said and walked past her and out of the bedroom.

Her grandfather silently lifted his feet up on the bed and straightened them. Celia walked over, tugging the covers over him and then tucking them into the sides of his bed. She knelt down by his side and her grandfather reached for her face with both his hands.

“Thank you dear, thank you for being here. I know what kind of sacrifice it is for you, leaving your life and your job behind in New York.” He said, his voice breaking as he spoke to her. Celia’s eyes were still watery. She was looking into the face of a very sick man. A man she loved dearly, but whom she had ignored for the past few years.

“I would do it all over again if I had to, grandpa. This is what families do, and you are my family.” She said, touching his hand where it rested on his cheek.

Her grandfather stared into his eyes for a few moments and then spoke again.

“I don’t want to interfere in your life, my child, but the Moore’s…they are different from us. Especially…especially…” He said.

“Conrad?” She asked, and he didn’t reply. But his silence spoke volumes.

“But Conrad says that Wilder is jealous of him, that he wants to take away his inheritance.” Celia said. Her grandfather’s eyebrows crossed.

“What inheritance? Their father left the ranch and all the property to Wilder alone.” He said, flatly, like it was an obvious statement. Celia’s lips had turned dry. She couldn’t understand what her grandfather was saying.

“Why would he do that? Isn’t Conrad his brother? An equal member of the family? I don’t understand.” Celia said.

“Conrad was a rebel, the black sheep of the family. He never wanted any part in the ranch. He ran away from home when he was fifteen and went away to New York. His father disowned him. And then he came back when his father died.” Her grandfather explained. Celia licked her lips in confusion. But Conrad had said that he was an equal share holder in the ranch, in the family’s properties…that Wilder would try and steal his inheritance if he left the ranch.

Her grandfather was studying her closely. They were both silent for a few moments.

“I don’t know what Conrad has been telling you dear. But the truth is that Wilder is supporting Conrad. He feels guilty…” He was saying, but fumbling with his words. Celia had heard the guilt in Wilder’s voice earlier on the porch.

“Wilder feels guilty because his wife slept with Conrad. Because he blames himself for his wife’s seduction of his younger brother?” She suggested. Again, her grandfather said nothing, but that was enough for her to understand. She breathed in deeply. Wilder was looking after his disowned younger brother, after everything Conrad had done to the family, to Wilder.

“Thank you for telling me, grandpa.” She said, patting his hand and straightening back up.

“I told you because I don’t want you to make a mistake. The same mistake that Katherine made. I’ve seen the way Wilder Moore looks at you, the way you look at him. Don’t let Conrad manipulate you into something that you’ll later regret.” He said.

“Did Katherine later regret it?” Celia asked. She had never loved her grandfather more, now she was learning the true worth of family. This was the greatest gift that her grandfather had ever given her. The gift of the truth.

“Of course she did. She was young and foolish and didn’t have the capacity to appreciate Wilder Moore for the man he is. When she regretted it, it was too late. He wouldn’t have his brother’s seconds, even if she was his wife to begin with.” He replied and Celia nodded her head.

“Thank you grandpa. Now have a good night’s sleep and we’ll talk again in the morning.” Celia said before flicking the light bulb off in the room and stepping back out into the quiet house.

* * *

Celia went looking for Wilder, she needed to speak to him, to tell him that she knew the truth now. He was looking after Conrad, giving him a share of the property because he believed that his brother deserved it as much as he did. And Conrad had lied, he had manipulated the truth to make her believe that Wilder was a despicable man.

Celia was running down the corridor towards the porch outside in search of Wilder when Conrad’s hands grabbed her waist from behind and she shrieked.

“Stop screaming! I know you want this.” She heard him breathe into her ears. Conrad’s arms were crossed over the front of her own body and he held her like that tightly. She was breathing hard, afraid now of what might happen. What he might make her do that would push Wilder away from her forever.

“You are just a simple girl, Celia. You don’t understand the complications of the world.” She heard him say. The laugh in his voice had returned. He was enjoying Celia struggling against him, trying to get free. He held her tightly, facing forward; his hand slowly creeping up her body.

“I know everything Conrad. Let me go! You’ve been lying to me about all of this.” She shrieked, not afraid of who might hear her.

Conrad yanked her by the hair towards him, and she yelped.

“Shut up. I’m not a liar. I told you what you needed to hear. You don’t need to know everything. You’re just our servant’s grand-daughter and that is all you are.” Conrad’s voice was slippery; he was breathing hard through his nose and his hand had now reached Celia’s right breast. She struggled against him, trying to get free but he was holding her tightly.

She couldn’t kick him or reach him, and now she was growing desperate.

“If you don’t let me go Conrad I’m going to scream. You can’t do this to me.” Celia blubbered, hot tears pricking the back of her eyelids.

“I can do whatever I want. I am the master of this house and you have to do as I say.” Conrad said, before giving her breast a tight painful squeeze. Celia gasped and tears had begun to roll down her eyes; when she heard Wilder’s voice.

“I am the master of this house, little brother and if you don’t let her go I’ll make sure your legs are too broken for you to walk.” Wilder’s voice was the same deep and harsh, brimming with rage and yet he wasn’t yelling. He was much more calm than he was in the past few days. His voice had an immediate effect on Celia, even though she couldn’t see him she felt her blood beginning to pump with excitement into her veins.

Conrad’s grip on her body relaxed and Celia slipped out of his arms and whipped around to face both the brothers.

“You need to stay out of this, Wilder. She is not your wife and you have no authority over her.” Conrad’s laugh had gone. He had turned to his brother with clenched jaws and nostrils flaring. To Celia’s surprise, Wilder smiled at his brother. A smile that she had seen so seldom that every time he did it she was too surprised to speak. It was a handsome rugged smile, making his cheeks stretch, his blue eyes glitter.

“She isn’t my wife, you’re right Conrad. But she isn’t your property either. Just like this ranch isn’t. You are a guest in my house and it’s time you understood that.” Wilder was speaking evenly still, ignoring Celia’s presence and keeping his watchful eyes on Conrad the whole time.

“She wants this!” Conrad yelled, flipping his head to look at her. Celia backed away into a wall. She was too terrified of Conrad now, of the whole situation, to be able to speak or defend herself.

When Conrad looked at her, Wilder took a few steps towards him. Conrad was startled, and he nearly ducked, making it clear that he was indeed scared of his brother. He had every reason to be scared of him.

“Leave her alone, Conrad. I’m telling you this for the last time.” Wilder growled. Conrad didn’t reply, but instead stared back at his brother with rage in his eyes.

“You’re dreaming if you think that she wants you. None of them want you Wilder. You have nothing to offer any woman.” Conrad managed to speak up.

“Shut up Conrad. Don’t put words in my mouth.” Celia found herself screaming. She couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t remain silent any more while Conrad continued to bruise his brother’s ego. Wilder needed affection, someone to believe in him. And none of Conrad’s words or actions were helping.

Both the men were looking at her now.

“I do want him. I never wanted you, but I’m in love with him.” Celia blurted out, and was instantly conscious of what she had just said. She could feel her cheeks flushing, the back of her neck growing hot. The brothers were still staring at her and when she looked up she saw that a small thin smile had started to appear on Wilder’s face.

“Get out of her Conrad, before I fling you out of the house myself.” Wilder turned to his brother. Conrad looked at them both, ground his teeth in anger and then brushed past Celia to walk back to his bedroom.

The house was ill lit and she could barely see Wilder’s face except for the silvery light that the moon was splashing in that spot. It had turned Wilder’s face into a bright white, as they stood there in silence. They were looking at each other. Celia’s heart was racing, beating out of her chest as she studied his face, his expression. She hadn’t lied, she loved this man. Everything she knew about him, she loved. She felt safe around him, and she wasn’t afraid. Wilder Moore would never be able to hurt her.

“I’m sorry for Conrad’s behavior.” Wilder said, breaking the silence after several minutes.

“You don’t have to apologize for him. It’s as much my fault. I suppose I encouraged him.” Celia admitted, wringing her hands together. She was nervous because she was excited, she had wanted this for so long…just to be able to speak to Wilder. To be this close to him and alone with him again.

“Why did you encourage him, Celia?” He asked her. She hung her head low and then looked up at him again.

“Because I was mad at you. Because I thought you didn’t want me. I suppose I wanted to make you jealous, or teach you a lesson…I don’t know. I was wrong, whatever I did.” She replied. Wilder was still looking at her. His blue eyes had softened. He wasn’t wearing his hat, and his sandy blonde hair fell thickly around his neck. His beard was still growing; he hadn’t shaved in days. Celia had crane her neck up to look at him, he was much taller than her.

“You succeeded then, Celia. Because I was very jealous, and very angry.”

“I know what happened with your wife.” She cut in. Wilder raised his eyebrows, but he wasn’t upset to hear her say it.

“I know what she did, what Conrad did…why did you force her to leave and allowed him to stay after that?” She asked.

“Because he’s my brother. Katherine was an outsider, a girl I knew only for a few months. She had married me for the money, I had always known that. And I married her because I wanted an heir for the ranch.” Wilder explained. Celia watched him intently as he spoke, he didn’t seem angry any more. It was like a dam inside him had burst open and all of this was just spilling out of him. He wanted to tell her, he believed that she needed to know.

“And Conrad was foolish, and jealous of me and arrogant. But I couldn’t just kick him out. He would have nowhere to go. Our father had left him with nothing.” Wilder continued.

Celia hung her head, ashamed that she had misjudged Wilder for a different man.

“So you don’t hate all women? You don’t hate me?” She managed to ask, meeting his eyes with a bite of her lower lip.

Wilder took a step in her direction and she saw the smile form on his face.

“Of course I don’t hate you, Celia. I wanted you with a burning desire from the moment I saw you at the train station. I hated myself for wanting you. I wanted to stop myself but I couldn’t.” Wilder was speaking in words that Celia had never imagined he could use. She stepped towards him and reached for his face tenderly. He was looking down at her, her lips began to quiver.

“Wilder, I want you too. Don’t listen to anything Conrad says. I want you. I love you.” She couldn’t hold herself back any more, she stood up on her toes and kissed him.

Wilder’s hands enveloped her small waist as he held her to himself, kissing her, pushing his tongue into her mouth. Celia sighed as she kissed him back. This was all she ever wanted. She explored his chest with her fingers, dropping her hands to his groin where she could feel a growing bulge.

This time he didn’t stop her, he thrust himself towards her and Celia pulled away from him and smiled.

“I thought you didn’t want me. I thought you were incapable of wanting anyone.” She whispered to him. Their foreheads were knocking against each-others, she was breathing in his air. Wilder smiled at her.

“I love you Celia. Of-course I want you. That first night happened because I couldn’t control myself. I can always control myself.” Wilder insisted, his hand now beginning to explore the front of her dress. She could see the desperation in his eyes again. She knew what he wanted, she wanted the same. He needed to be inside her so that they could feel whole again. This time apart had made them both desperate. They needed each other.

“What is going to happen with Conrad?” She asked him, pulling her face away from him as he was about to kiss her.

“He is going to go fulfill his dream. I’ll give him the money he needs. He can go back to New York and try making a living there again. He’s unhappy here, bored and lonely. And I don’t need him here.” Wilder said, running his large hands through her own unruly curls. He seemed to be enjoying feeling the soft texture of her hair, he looked at her face and then grabbed both her cheeks. Wilder kissed her on her lips before she had the opportunity to say anything to him again. When Celia pulled away, she licked her lips and smiled at him.

“You are a good person, Wilder. You are a good brother and you are a good man for taking care of my grandfather for so long.” She said and placed her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating and she smiled again. Her first instincts had been right. This was a man who she could get to know, spend her life with. This wasn’t a man she needed to be afraid of.

“Thank you Celia. You know, nobody has ever said that to me? Cowboys deserve some kindness and compliments too.” Wilder said and Celia burst into a laugh. She couldn’t help herself. Wilder was laughing too. They were sharing their first laugh as a couple and Celia knew that she had never been happier. Her grandfather was right, nobody around him understood Wilder Moore for the man he was. But she was determined to, he was right, even cowboys needed to be understood.

* * *

Ivy was sitting on the porch of her father’s pub, with her feet up on a stool and a file to her finger nails. It was blistering hot now by noon and the pub had just opened up. Being the only watering hole in the village, it was also where people came to get a mid-day snack or just meet up with friends.

She had nothing else to do but kill time. At twenty-one year’s old, Ivy had dropped out of college in North Carolina and returned to her home town to help her father with his business instead. Ever since her mother passed away, and she being the only child; she felt like she had a responsibility to care for her father. He was glad to have her back too, but she had always been the apple of his eye, the spoilt daddy’s daughter. So, he never entrusted her with any real work, and now instead of actually helping him set up the pub to open to customers, Ivy had nothing else to do but just sit around and file her nails.

“Daddy.” She called out to him, jumping off the chair on the porch and rushing inside. Her father was behind the bar, polishing the glasses.

“Can I help?” She asked him, pouting her lips. She had been back home from college for over two weeks now and he still hadn’t allowed her to do anything around the house or the pub.

“I don’t need any help here, Ivy. Why don’t you go see what your friends are up to?” Her father turned his kind gray eyes to her. Ivy shrugged her shoulders and sighed.

“What friends? I don’t have any friends here any-more. They’ve all left.” She said, following her father’s every movement with her large green eyes. Her father smacked his lips, and continued polishing the glasses.

“You shouldn’t have quit college, Ivy. Look, I’m fine here, I don’t need your help. You should have stayed on and made something of your life.” He said, shaking his head at her. Ivy sighed with a huff and turned from him.

There was some truth in what he was saying. The more-wise thing to do would have been to stick on in college and complete her Bachelor in Agricultural Science; but Ivy wasn’t interested in school. She had been pushing herself to do something that she didn’t want to do by staying on in college. Returning home to help her father was partially an excuse, because she also wanted to take some time off school to figure out what it was that she really wanted to do with her life.

It had been two weeks since, and she still had no clue.

Ivy walked up to the large ornate mirror behind the pub door to look at herself. Her blonde curls were in tight natural ringlets, and she had kept them loose around her face. Her eyes were large and green, and even without any makeup; Ivy’s cheeks were always a bright cherry red, just like the natural color of her lips.

She was full bodied, her breasts forming a high curve on her chest. She was small, but not petite and she always made an impression wherever she went. Heads always turned to look at her. Today she had chosen to wear a thin white dress, to combat the heat. The neckline plunged deep, revealing her cleavage. For shoes, she was in simple sandals. Ivy sighed as she ran her fingers through her curls and shook them out. What was she going to do with her days here?

None of her childhood friends were still around, they had all left town, moved to bigger cities, as had she initially. But college, academics, a traditional career, were not the things that Ivy was made for, and she couldn’t force herself to pursue them any-more.

She could hear her father tinkering about behind the bar, as she continued to stare at herself in the mirror. Her plump cheeks looked bright today, her lips were broad and pouty…Ivy Hart was concerned now that she was going to end up wasting her life away. Just like her mother had warned her against.

The thought of her mother made her turn to look at her father behind the bar again. She had never seen two people as much in love as her parents had been, and it immediately brought a smile to her face. But in a moment of desperate confession once, several years ago; her mother had told her that sometimes she felt trapped. Trapped by the love of her husband, and her own love for him. And it was that passion which had never allowed her to escape this place, leave and try and make a different life for herself. That she had always regretted not trying. But in most other moments, her mother was happy, in love and content.

But Ivy could never forget her mother’s confession about the dangers of falling in love with a small-town cowboy. That is who her father was, and that was the only life that Ivy knew. That was the life that she had tried so hard to get away from, by going to college but she couldn’t.

Something about this place, about this life had dragged her back. But she knew she had to find a way out, she needed to find her own passion in life and let that be the guiding light for a path out of this small sleepy desert town.

“Daddy, I need to find something to do.” She said, suddenly whipping around to her father again. He looked up from his polishing to raise an exhausted eyebrow at his daughter and sighed.

“There is nothing for you to do here, sweet child. You should have never come back. You should have stayed away from here, just like your mama told you to.” He said, and Ivy noticed the sadness in his eyes. She had no idea that her father knew about the things that her mother had confided in her.

Just as she was about to ask him about it, the doors of the pub creaked open.

* * *

Ivy and her father had both turned to the door in unison. The pub had barely been open for a few minutes, they weren’t expecting any customers to turn up this soon.

A man had walked in, his face was covered partially with a cowboy hat perched on his head, which he was slowly lowering. He walked stealthily, with purpose; and Ivy’s first instincts were to study him closely. In dark dusty jeans and a plaid shirt tucked in, the man had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Even in the dim light of the pub, Ivy was quick to notice the sparkle in his chocolate brown eyes as he turned to look at her, and then he looked away.

Ivy instinctually straightened her back. His hat was in his hands now as he slowly made his way to the bar counter, towards her father. She could see his back, as he walked away from her. This man was tall, at least a foot taller than her and he looked like he was made of pure hard muscle. His back was wide and held taut against the fabric of his shirt.

“Hugo Hart?” The man’s voice rang loud through the silence of the pub. It sent a shiver down Ivy’s spine. His voice was smooth and deep, and even though she couldn’t see his face now, Ivy couldn’t control her desperate need to look at him.

“That’s me. And you must be Leon Cooper.” Her father was smiling at the man, he had pasted the polite customer face on, which he reserved for the pub. Ivy’s brows crossed, her father knew everyone in these parts, how did he not know this man.

“What can I get you?” Her father asked him, placing his hands on the counter and still smiling at the man.

Ivy was standing behind them, still several feet away from them, wringing her hands with desperation. She wanted to draw closer to him, she wanted to see his face, it was like an itching need all over her body to steal a look at him. She had no control over her brain any more.

“Oh, thank you but I don’t drink.” The man said, in that same calm deep voice, that made Ivy’s fingers tingle. Who was this man? What was he doing here? Which man in these parts didn’t drink alcohol?

“I see, what can I do you for then?” Her father asked him, the smile dropping slightly from his face. Nobody came into the pub for anything other than to get something to drink or eat, but this man seemed to be on a different kind of business. And Ivy’s father seemed just as confused as she was.

“I was hoping that you would help me spread the word locally, before I advertise in the newspaper.” The man said. He didn’t sound friendly, or even like he was comfortable speaking to her father. He sounded angry, arrogant and self-confident. But Ivy was still desperate to see his face. Just watching him standing in front of her, just tracing out the muscles on his back with her eyes, on the back of his legs…were enough to set her body on fire.

“Sure, what is it?” Her father leaned on the counter closer to him.

“I need somebody to take care of my house.” The man said. Ivy licked her lips, her heart was pounding against her chest.

“Is that so?” She heard her father say.

“I live alone, as you must have heard and I have an entire ranch to work with. I just moved there a few weeks ago. I need a woman to do the cooking and cleaning and laundry.” He continued. Ivy was still wringing her hands together tightly. She felt like she was going to burst, that she might faint if she didn’t say something now, if he didn’t turn to look at her now.

“I can do that, I’ll spread the word.” Her father replied to the man with a smile.

“I would prefer a strong, healthy woman who won’t mind getting her hands dirty. Maybe help me with the ranch too if needed. I am willing to provide lodgings, three meals a day and five hundred dollars a month.” The man continued and flipped his hat on his head again. This was a sign that he was going to leave, and Ivy couldn’t control herself any more.

“I can do it.” She blurted out before she could stop herself.

Her father jerked his head to look at her, and then she saw the man slowly turning towards her too.

“Ah, that’s my daughter, Ivy. She is only playing, don’t worry Mr. Cooper, I will find an able woman for you.” Her father was speaking in the background, but his voice was slowly fading away. All Ivy could think about, all she could see was this man who stood in front of her, facing her now. She could finally see his face, and he was looking at her too.

“This is your daughter?” He asked, interrupting her father’s babbling words.

Ivy stood silently, watching him watching her. His face was chiseled, like it was cut out of stone. His eyebrows were dark, like his eyes, and sharp. His hair was a dirty sandy blonde, and fell shaggily over his forehead. His skin was tanned to a golden honey color that Ivy had a sudden incredible urge to lick.

“Yes, she is and she is only a wee girl, as you can see.” Her father replied hurriedly.

Leon Cooper’s eyes were on her. She could see that he was studying her breasts, the strength in her hands, her small height, her wide hips, the curve of her waist…he was trying to decide if she would be able to work for him.

“She will do.” He said, ignoring her father’s attempts at dissuading him, and a smile creeped up on Ivy’s face.

* * *

“Oh no, Mr. Cooper, I believe you are mistaken. My daughter has no experience in house work, she has been in college for the past two years, she will not be able to help around the house.” Her father had grown desperate now. The last thing he wanted was for his daughter to go work for someone else’s home. He didn’t even allow her to work in his own!

“That’s good. It means I can use her to work on my accounts.” Leon said, pulling his gaze away from Ivy’s body to finally look at her father again.

“I studied agricultural science. I can help you with your ranch.” Ivy spoke up, directing his gaze back at her again.

She wanted him to keep looking at her. She wanted him to look at her breasts, at her slender pale neck, she wanted to see if he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Leon licked his thin rugged lips and nodded his head.

“Good. That is settled then.” He turned to her father. Ivy realized that she hadn’t seen him smiling yet.

Her father was dumbstruck, still standing behind the bar, looking from his daughter to Leon Cooper and then back at his daughter again.

“Be at my ranch, tomorrow at eight.” He said to her, fixing his hat on his head and then walking straight for the door.

Ivy remained standing where she was, following him with her eyes. She couldn’t take her gaze off him. She couldn’t stop wondering what that rock-solid body would look like under those clothes. What he smelt of, how the stubble on his chin would feel against her own face.

“Ivy!” Her father’s harsh voice snapped her out of her daydream. Leon Cooper had gone out of the pub, leaving her alone with her father again.

“What is the matter daddy?” She asked, finally walking towards him. She had been frozen to the spot earlier, unable to move any of her limbs.

“You cannot go and work for that man. You cannot go and work at somebody’s home!” Her father’s eyes were widened, he was thundering, his face was turning red with anger.

“Oh daddy, please don’t be like that. I won’t just be working at his house, I’ll be helping him with his actual work, with his books, with the animals. It’s the kind of work I like to do.” Ivy said, walking around the counter and standing in front of her father with her arms crossed.

Her father slapped the dish cloth in his hand on the counter out of rage.

“What would your mother say, Ivy? You went to college; you were brought up differently. You don’t know the first thing about house work!” He was still screaming and Ivy only rolled her eyes and looked away from him.

“It isn’t that difficult. And I’ve been bored these two weeks, and now I have something to do and earn some extra cash.” She replied to him, only infuriating him further.

“This better be a temporary thing, Ivy! I will not allow my daughter to do that kind of work, not in today’s world.” Her father was still grumbling and Ivy smiled.

“Oh daddy, please don’t be so mad. I just want to do something with my time, till I figure out what I really want to do in life. You understand?” She said, rushing towards him and throwing her arms around her father’s neck.

He accepted the hug and then patted her on her back, his anger was slowly subsiding now.

“I understand, Ivy. Sorry I lost my temper. I just didn’t want to disappoint your mother.” He said, his voice was now slightly muffled by her hair, as she pressed her head to his loving chest.

“I know daddy, but she would have wanted me to do what I want, to do something productive with my free time. Gain some real world practical experience.” Ivy said, looking up at him and smiling. She knew her father couldn’t resist her playful smiles, he always indulged her.

“Alright, alright, child. You’ve convinced me.” He said and she released him from her grip.

“Thank you, daddy. And I’ll come visit you often, and I promise you, it’ll only be for a few weeks, till something else comes up in the city.” Ivy said, biting down on her lip.

“Good.” Her father said, picking up the dishcloth again. He didn’t look like he was happy with her decision, but he also knew that he couldn’t do anything to change her mind. Ivy always got what she wanted, and right now she wanted this job.

“I’m going to go home and pack a few things, daddy. I’ll see you in the evening.” She said, waving at her father as she rushed out of the pub doors. She didn’t wait for her father’s reply, she wanted to be out in the light, in the sun. She wanted to run so that she might be able to do something about her madly beating heart.

She was running towards the house, with a smile on her face, unconcerned now about the harsh sun beating down on her now. She had too much on her mind.

How could she have explained to her father, the effect that Leon Cooper had on her body, on her senses? The real reason why she was taking this job. He had done something to her, the moment he walked into that pub. She knew instantly that she would agree to anything that he asked of her, she would do anything to please him. She only wanted to look at him. She wanted him to look at her. She was taking this job only so that she could be closer to him, so that she could seduce him. Even though she had seen Leon Cooper only once, Ivy had already made up her mind that he was going to be the man she would give her virginity to.

* * *

Ivy shaded her eyes against the harsh sun, as she blinked at the vast expanse of the ranch that stood in front of her. Her father had driven her to the gates of the ranch, kissed her goodbye and then driven away. She could tell that he was still upset. When he left, she dragged her cell phone out and sent him a quick text. ‘Thank you daddy’ She had written to him. And now she stood staring up at the sign that greeted her at the entrance.

‘Old Marigold Ranch’

On the ride-over, her father had hesitatingly told her a little about the ranch, and what he knew. Leon Cooper was new to these parts because he had recently bought the place, for some millions of dollars, and then spent even more money to repair it and build it up. Nobody knew much about him, because he kept himself to himself. All they could tell was that the man was very rich, and liked to be left alone.

A well brushed dusty path led up to the newly painted white mansion that stood in the middle of the ranch, with a backdrop of the Montana mountains behind it. Ivy sighed, bit down on her lip and started dragging her bags behind her as she walked towards it. She had barely slept the previous night from the anticipation of seeing him again. She had a sudden new purpose in life, and she was planning on grabbing it by the horns.

As she drew closer to the mansion, she heard the sound of horse hooves. Ivy shielded her eyes again to look out in the distance. As predicted, Leon Cooper was approaching her, on a fast riding horse, and it looked like he had no intention to stop. Her mouth hung open slightly, her heart was beating fast, she had never been this sexually aroused by just looking at a man before.

“You’re late, Ivy Hart.” Were the first words that escaped his lips, as he made a sudden stop on his beautiful chestnut horse, only a few feet away from her. A dust cloud, formed by the hooves of the horse was settling in around Ivy, and she could feel the dust in her hair.

“It’s only half past eight.” She found the strength in herself to say.

Leon jumped off his horse and patted it on its neck lovingly, before stepping towards her. He had the same hat on his head, his face was just as well sculpted and rugged as she remembered it. In the surroundings of the ranch, he looked even more muscular, more athletic, like he could crush her in his bare hands if he wanted to.

Ivy could feel her nipples harden under her loose peasant blouse as he walked closer to her. She had never before been this awash with sexual desire for a man.

“Only? I asked you to be here at eight, young lady.” He said, his voice was as harsh and grim as before, and Ivy dropped her eyes from him. His gaze made her uncomfortable, as much as she wanted to continue looking at him.

“I’m sorry, we got delayed with the packing and I had to…” She was fumbling with her words.

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. From now on, please stick to the orders given to you. I took you on, because you are able bodied and seem smart, but I also need you to be obedient.” He had interrupted her. Ivy’s brows crossed and she jerked her head up to look at him. Who did he think he was? She could feel her nostrils flaring. Which century did this man think they lived in? He wanted her to be an obedient housekeeper?

“I will do my best to get the job done, Mr. Cooper. But please do not expect me to be a meek obedient slave to your wishes and fancies.” Ivy said, gritting her teeth. As much as she wanted him, wanted his lips on hers, his fingers in her hair; she was also prideful. She matched his fiery gaze with her own, and glared back at him, daring him to dismiss her. They stared at each other for several moments.

“I don’t intend on you being my slave, Ivy. Just my employee.” He said and took a few steps closer to her. She could see that he was studying her again, his eyes were drinking in the shape of her breasts under the cotton fabric of her blouse, how her jeans fit splendidly on the curves of her hips. Then he looked back at her eyes again.

“What are your tasks for me today?” She asked him, the silence between them was growing to be very uncomfortable, she couldn’t control her ragged breathing any more. She wanted to get a moment to catch her breath, away from him.

“The maintenance of the house is your responsibility. I don’t intend on setting you any tasks. You can figure it out yourself. You can set up your room, it’s the one at the bottom of the stairs, next to the kitchen.” He said, and before Ivy could respond; Leon had jumped back on his horse.

She looked up at him, confusion, anger, desire all streaming out of her eyes as she glared at him. He tipped his hat at her, and then out of nowhere, he smiled. His smile was wide, warm and reached his eyes, and just like that, he had turned his horse around and he was galloping away.

Ivy could feel her breasts rise and fall as she tried to make sense of her own feelings. She was offended by his behavior, and yet dangerously attracted to him. Maybe her father was right, she was foolish to think that she could work as a housekeeper for an absolute stranger. But she wasn’t a quitter either, she was going to give this one chance.

* * *

The mansion, which was Leon Cooper’s house, was unlike one that Ivy had ever seen before. It was luxurious on the inside, decorated tastefully with beautiful new upholstery, carpeted floors, platinum fixtures in all the bathrooms and porcelain figurines. She was even more surprised to see the house because she hadn’t quite pegged Leon to be the kind of a man who might decorate a house in this fashion.

No wonder he needs a housekeeper, she thought to herself as she walked around the rooms silently. Everything was neat, clean and polished, everything was in its place. She had to be careful as she walked around, afraid to touch anything, afraid to move too quickly. She had no idea how expensive any of the things were and she was afraid to break something.

Her bedroom was lavish too; much more beautiful than any bedroom she had ever stayed in before. She unpacked her bags and then sat down on the large springy bed, looking out of her window.

She could see the ranch as it spread across, around the house. She could see a stable of horses in the background, and hear the sound of their hooves. But Leon wasn’t in sight.

She sighed, a sudden feeling of being overwhelmed washed over Ivy. This house was too big, too expensive, too tasteful for her to look after. Especially since she had never looked after a house before. Where was she even supposed to begin?

Ivy stood up from the bed and walked out of her bedroom, walking gingerly towards the kitchen. At least she could start preparing lunch, she considered.

Leon hadn’t told her what time he took his lunch, what he liked to eat, or if he was even coming back to the house for it. When she looked up at the clock in the kitchen, it told her it was nearly eleven already. She realized she had wasted too much time exploring the mansion.

She got started on the food and found that the pantry was stuffed with ingredients and supplies, although it looked like the kitchen hadn’t once been used yet. At least thankfully, her mother had passed down her famous cooking skills, so she could whip up a meal with very little effort.

Within an hour, Ivy had baked a batch of fresh cheese rolls and a pot of thick chicken cream soup. Along with a bowl of berries and yogurt that she placed at the center of the dining table, she arranged the rest of the simple yet hearty meal and sat down to wait.

Ivy waited for some time, by herself, wondering if she had made the right decision to make lunch. It wasn’t until one that she heard the front door of the house being banged shut and the crunching sound of Leon’s leather boots as he walked towards the dining room.

Ivy stood up from her chair with a jerk, not sure what she was expecting from him. Leon walked in, with his hat in his hands, and only grunted when he saw her. He looked at the food on the table, and without a word pulled out a chair at the head of the table and sat down to eat.

He hadn’t looked at her since he walked into the room, and yet Ivy could feel her heart beating wildly against her chest. She noticed the way some of his sandy locks fell boyishly over his forehead, how his stubble had grown darker, how his skin looked tough after working out in the sun all morning.

“Why aren’t you sitting down?” He suddenly looked up at her, with his dark chocolate eyes boring into her.

Ivy sat down on the chair with a thump, watching him tear one of the cheese rolls in half and popping it into his mouth. Leon looked at her again as he chewed.

“Have you found yourself things to do around the house?” He asked, after several moments of silence. Ivy hadn’t even served herself her food yet, she didn’t quite know what to do. She had never been in this sort of environment before, and she was also aware that just his presence was enough to freeze her limbs.

“I was thinking I’ll start by dusting the rooms, then polishing the wood…” She began to say but he interrupted her again.

“I didn’t ask for your schedule, just wanted to know if you have one.” He said, taking quick large spoons of the soup and shoving them into his mouth.

Ivy breathed in deeply, trying to control the building rage in her body. She couldn’t understand what he expected from her, how he wanted her to behave. She felt like she was displeasing him, by not even doing anything.

She looked down at her fingers on her lap as she heard him eating his food quickly. Within just a few minutes, Leon had finished his lunch. Ivy looked up again when she heard the sound of his chair-legs scraping the pine wood floor.

He flicked his hat back on his head and licked his lips.

“You said that you don’t intend on being treated as a salve, and yet you didn’t eat with me.” Leon said, meeting her gaze. There was fire in his chocolate brown sparkling eyes, and Ivy had to muster up all the strength in herself not to look away. She glared back at him, holding her chin up.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to eat with you.” She said, looking up at his towering frame at the end of the table.

“I’ll be gone till seven. Make sure the house is clean and in order. I take my dinner at eight.” He said, and turned around and walked out of the dining room. Ivy remained sitting at the table for a few minutes longer, with her breasts heaving, her nostrils flared in fury. What kind of an employment had she gotten herself into?

* * *

Ivy had dusted all the rooms of the house, polished the wooden furniture and then prepared an elaborate dinner for the two of them. She had baked a spicy chicken pie, cooked up a batch of breaded drumsticks and a bowl of steamed vegetables. For dessert, she had prepared some fruit custard. All of the dinner had been laid out on the table by eight. At exactly seven she had heard Leon walk back into the house and then heard his boots as they crunched up the stairs.

At eight she stationed herself behind a chair at the dining table, the food was served and ready to be devoured. Leon wasn’t late to make an appearance.

He looked like he had showered and shaved. He had changed out of his clothes for the day into a pair of fresh jeans and a crisp white cotton shirt, folded to his elbows again. His jaw was smooth and paler than the rest of his face. His hands looked freshly washed, less dusty but still as rugged and rough as before.

He entered the room, pulled out a chair at the head of the table and sat down. Ivy sat down too, and poured herself a glass of water.

“I was afraid you’d be too young for all this.” She heard his deep voice and looked up. He had been watching her as he ate. He was definitely older than her, but not that much older. He looked like he was in his late twenties, still too young to own a ranch as lavish as this.

“But your cooking skills are excellent.” He said and Ivy felt her cheeks flush. A compliment was not what she was expecting from him.

“Thank you. These are all my late mother’s recipes.” She said, trying to suppress a smile. As much as she detested the way he spoke to her, she still couldn’t lie to herself and convince her brain that she didn’t want his body. Leon Cooper was the first man to set her body on fire like this.

“Why did you drop out of college? Your father said you were only there for two years.” He said, after a few moments of silence.

Ivy breathed in deeply, and took a bite of the hot pie.

“Because I wasn’t good at school and felt like I was wasting my time. I wanted to do something with my hands, something practical.” She said, meeting his sparkling eyes.

Leon took a sip of water to wash down the food he had been chewing.

“Getting an education is practical experience. Your father should have never let you drop out of college.” He said and Ivy felt the rage return to her veins. When was, he going to stop pissing her off? Who was he to lecture her?

“I didn’t want to waste my time doing something that I didn’t enjoy.” She said snappily, and looked away from him. She could feel her cheeks growing more bright because of the anger she could feel.

Leon gave a small sarcastic chuckle that made her look up again.

“Nobody does what they enjoy for the rest of their lives. You have to do what you have to do.” He said, glaring at her with narrowed eyes.

“You look like you’re enjoying your life. Why are you criticizing mine?” Ivy found herself saying, and she noticed the way Leon’s face immediately hardened.

“You don’t know anything about me. What makes you think I’ve not earned this lifestyle?” He thundered at her, his voice was raised and his eyes were focused on her. She could see the rage in his reddening eyes.

“What makes you think you know anything about me?” She asked, taking another bite of her pie. She wanted to enrage him more, she wanted to set his skin on fire. He had done the same to her, and she believed he deserved it too.

Leon stood up suddenly from the chair and banged both his fists on the table.

“Don’t expect you can talk to me that way, young lady!” He thundered again. Ivy scrunched her face, and dropped her cutlery on her plate to look up at him. She was glad that he was angry, that she had made him this angry.

“I only work for you, Mr. Cooper. I am not your ward or your wife. You have no control over how I speak.” She said, looking up at him calmly. She could see the way he was glaring at her, how angry he was, how he didn’t expect anyone to speak to him that way.

Leon banged the table again with his fists.

“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have hired you. I will speak to your father so he can come and collect you tomorrow morning.” He said, stepping towards her.

Ivy wiped her mouth delicately with a napkin on her side, gulped down the rest of her food and then slowly stood up.

“I will gladly make the phone call myself. And I will be sure to tell him what a displeasure it has been to work for you. Just for a day.” Ivy hissed at him, as she watched him walk closer to her.

“You are a nuisance.” He barked at her, and she saw a vein throbbing on his forehead, how his eyes glittered with anger, how he had bunched up his fists. Ivy raised an eyebrow and smiled at him.

“You knew that when you hired me. You saw that in my eyes. Working here wasn’t what made you give me the job.” She said, and stepped towards him herself. Their bodies were now inches away from each-others. She could smell him, a mixture of his sweat with the musky scent of the aftershave he had splashed on his face. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she glared at him defiantly.

In a flash his lips were on hers.

* * *

Leon had grabbed Ivy by the waist and drawn her close to him. In the surprise of the moment she had thrown her arms away from her body, accepting his kiss hungrily. His lips were rough and wild as he parted hers and thrust his tongue into her mouth. She had kissed only two boys before this, and nobody had kissed her like this. He made her body shiver, her fingers quiver with anticipation for what was going to happen next.

She knew what she wanted, she wanted him inside her. She wanted him to be the first man inside her.

Leon’s hands were moving up her body as she kissed him back. She could feel her breasts pressed against his chest, as his hands found its way inside her blouse. The feel of his fingers on her skin set it on fire. She could feel her body burning up, the wetness growing between her legs. She had never felt this aroused, this ready for a man before. She had to have him.

Leon was the one who pulled away from her, he was breathing hard.

“What are you doing to me, Ivy?” He growled as his hands found their way to the front of her blouse. He ripped it down the center, in one quick gash. Ivy gasped, as her torso was exposed to the air. She could feel her nipples hardened and erect. He saw them too, hungrily, greedily and before she knew what was going to happen, he was tugging at her lacey black bra with his teeth.

Ivy craned her neck back, thrusting her breasts towards him as he pulled her bra out of the way with his mouth. She was shy, she was embarrassed, nobody had seen her naked breasts before. She hadn’t allowed anyone to go this far.

“You are all woman, aren’t you?” She heard him say as he wedged his face between the soft folds of her bare breasts. He was clutching her waist as he did this, and she held on to his shoulders.

Then he pushed her, gently, so that she felt her back press against the cold wooden table top. He had laid her down on it, with her torso bare of any clothing.

When Ivy looked up she saw Leon towering over her, unbuttoning his shirt as he kept his eyes on her body. He was watching her breasts like he was in a daze.

His shirt came off and Ivy gasped again. He had the most chiseled rugged torso she had ever seen. Like it was right out of a glossy magazine. She couldn’t believe that a man who looked like this was going to have her virginity and she was so ready for him.

He dipped his head then, not giving her any time to think. She felt his mouth on one of her swollen hard pink nipples. He was sucking on it, and Ivy moaned, clutching his smooth bronze shoulders, digging her nails into his flesh. She could feel herself growing wetter by the second, her juices flowing out of her. Then his hands were on the buttons of her jeans.

Ivy bit down on her lip, as she felt his big rough hands slide her jeans down her voluptuous thighs. She felt small and delicate in his hands. He flung her jeans aside, and without giving her a moment to feel ashamed, he parted her bare legs, wedging himself between them.

When he raised his head to look at her, his lips were covered with his own saliva.

“I’ll only do it if you’re ready for me, Ivy.” He said, looking straight into her eyes. How was she supposed to explain to him that she had been ready and waiting for him from the first moment she saw him?

She only nodded her head and bit down on her lip.

She hadn’t seen his dick, hadn’t seen him take his pants off, but now she felt it slide into her. Ivy screamed, louder than she had expected herself to. She wasn’t a virgin anymore.

Leon slid into her, slowly, gently, afraid that he was hurting her.

“Go deeper. Give me more!” She screamed, throwing her head back with pleasure. She hadn’t expected it to feel this way. She hadn’t expected it to feel this good.

Leon started pumping. He was pumping hard. She could feel his full length inside her, taking over her body. He was holding her legs in place, keeping them spread wide apart as he thrust repeatedly into her.

Something else was happening inside her, way down in her belly. Leon kept his hands on her breasts, pinching her nipples with his fingers, while he thrust himself into her. The more he pumped into her, the more she could feel it growing. Ivy moved her hips, welcoming him in deeper and deeper. She could hear herself moaning, but she was also preparing herself for a release. She was so close to the edge.

“Oh my God, I’m going to come!” She screamed at the top of her lungs as her body exploded into a burst of sensations. She couldn’t control it any more. She heard him growl and then felt him shoot inside her too. They were coming together.

Ivy’s body shook wildly, and her toes curled as Leon continued to pump and thrust into her. She could feel him sliding in and out, stroking her deep in her center, the first time anyone had ever stroked her there.

She was smiling from the sensation; she could feel her body soar. If this was what sex felt like, she felt foolish for having waited this long to experience it. Then, as her breathing began to finally subside, and she could feel Leon slowly pulling himself out of her, Ivy couldn’t help but wondering again if this was what sex felt like, but only with Leon Cooper.

* * *

Ivy remained on the table, with her legs still spread apart, her breasts rising and falling from her raspy breathing. Leon had extracted himself from between her legs and was now standing naked in front of her, completely naked. Now she could finally see the enormous dick that he had just fucked her with. She tried to suppress a smile.

“I’m sorry.” Were the first words that escaped his lips.

Ivy straightened herself up. She was sitting on the edge of the table now, with her legs dangling off the side.

“You’re sorry? What for?” She asked him, brushing a few of her blonde ringlets away from her eyes. This man was always full of surprises.

“For this. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Leon replied, and she noticed that he was avoiding her eyes. He had started to look for his clothes that were strewn all over the floor of the dining room.

“I wanted it too. You don’t have to apologize to me.” She said, and recognized a certain degree of desperation in her voice. She didn’t want him to punish himself for what had happened in the heat of the moment.

“This was your first time.” He said flatly, pulling up his pants to his waist.

Ivy remained silent, she didn’t want to reply to that statement because she wasn’t sure how he would react to that.

“You should have told me. You should have stopped me.” He said, in a louder voice, now buttoning up his shirt. Ivy was still naked on the table, and she saw how his eyes briefly went to her large swinging breasts.

“I didn’t want you to stop. I wanted this to happen.” She said, following his every movement with her eyes. Leon was tucking his shirt into his pants, and had then started to fold his sleeves up to his elbows. His dark brown eyes had lost their luster and sparkle, he looked worried.

“Leon! I wanted it!” She said, louder, to get his attention.

He jerked his head up to look at her.

“I told myself that I was hiring you only for the work. I should have known that I wouldn’t be able to control myself, you have to leave.” He said, turning away from her again. He had started to pick up her clothes off the floor.

Ivy jumped off the edge of the table, now standing naked in front of him. She wasn’t shy or ashamed of her body anymore, she knew the effect she had on him, she had watched him grow helpless when he saw her naked. She knew that even right now; he was struggling to keep his hands to himself.

“I don’t want to go just yet; I think we can find a way to work together. You need someone to look after the house anyway.” She said, pleading with him with her voice.

“I’ll find someone else.” He said and thrust a handful of her clothes towards her.

“I want to work here. We got off to a bad start, that’s all.” Ivy said, trying her best to not simply break down in tears.

“This cannot happen again. You have to leave!” He thundered, turning to her with rage in his eyes again.

“Why not? If we want each other, why can’t it happen again?” She yelled back at him, plucking the clothes out of his hands. Leon turned away from her, and walked towards the dining room door.

“I came here to get myself away from all this. Because I needed a break from women. I didn’t expect to find you in this town. I should have never hired you.” He said and stormed out, leaving Ivy alone and naked in the room.

She could feel her shoulders quivering as she stood beside the table, the food only half eaten on the plates. She held her clothes tightly to her chest as she licked her lips. She had just lost her virginity, she had never felt this good before, she had never felt this attracted to a man before, and now he had just gone and banished her from his life.

What did he mean he needed a break from women? Why was he punishing himself like this?

Ivy began to slowly put her clothes back on, and ran her fingers through her curls. She felt tired from the day, she wasn’t hungry anymore and she was more confused now than she had been when she first arrived here. In one moment, she hated Leon Cooper and wanted to get away from this house, and in the next she couldn’t stand the thought of going away.

Ivy bit down on her lip as she started clearing the dishes and cutlery away, taking them back into the kitchen.

She couldn’t hear Leon anywhere in the house. She didn’t know if he was still in the house or had left. She wished she could talk to him, make him see how he was affecting her life, how in the span of only one day, he had managed to give her a new purpose and make her body quiver with desire for him.

After clearing up, Ivy managed to muster the courage to walk to the bottom of the stairs in the foyer. She looked up at the bedrooms upstairs, but couldn’t tell if he was in one of them or not. She wanted to call out to him, but she held her tongue. Leon Cooper didn’t seem like the kind of man who would take defiance lightly. What other choice did she have but to allow him to call her father and leave his employment?

After all, he had all the right to fire her, he had no obligations to her. It was her fault for mixing up her feelings for him. It was nothing more than lust and he had already fulfilled her desires for him. Why then did she still want more? Why was she so desperate for more of this man who was only trying to push her away?

* * *

Ivy woke up on the sprawling springy bed in Leon’s guest room, all by herself. Now, at seven in the morning, she could hear Leon moving around upstairs in his own room. She stretched her arms, slipped off the bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom. She decided to take a shower.

She chose a knee length floral skirt for the day, along with a basic cotton black t-shirt which she knew would accentuate her breasts. She stared at herself in the mirror, as she dried and brushed her hair. Her green eyes were large and eager, the bright red of her cheeks had returned. She couldn’t wait to see him again.

She was in the kitchen, toasting bread and buttering them before it was even eight. She heard Leon’s footsteps on the stairs at eight sharp and within moments he had joined her in the kitchen. Ivy turned to look at him, and their gazes met. For the first time, she thought she saw embarrassment in Leon’s eyes. It was as though he hadn’t expected her to be there.

“Did you call daddy yet?” She asked him quietly, placing a plate of four buttered toasts on the kitchen island behind her. In a glass, she poured in orange juice and placed it next to the plate. Leon seemed to be debating whether to eat the food or not.

“No, I figured it was too early. I’ll call him in a couple of hours. You should pack your bags and stay ready.” He said and walked over to the plate of toasts. He picked one up without sitting down. Ivy wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and turned to him, crossing her arms over her breasts.

He looked handsome in the morning light. A dark stubble had begun to form on his chin, and he had changed into his usual plaid work shirt and dusty jeans, the hat was back on his head too.

“Well, I’ll do something to pass the time anyway. I’m packed already.” She said, breaking the silence. Leon didn’t respond but continued to munch on the toasts.

“Maybe I’ll brush the horses? I like doing that.” She suggested, she knew she sounded too eager, she was giving away her feelings, but she wanted to hear his voice again.

Leon looked up at her with heavy lids, and shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not working with the horses today, so you can do what pleases you. Thanks for the breakfast.” He said and dusted his hands and made to walk away.

“Leon.” She called out to him, using his name for the first time. He had been inside her, he had made her come, she had felt his dick slide into her. The least she could do now was call him by his first name.

He only half turned, just his head, to acknowledge her.

“Why did you say you came here to get away? Get away from what?” She asked him. Leon looked away again, but he didn’t move. She could see that he was clenching his jaws now.

“If we’re never going to see each other again, how does it matter if you tell me the truth?” She asked him, taking a few steps in his direction. She could see the muscles on his back tense up. His jaws were still clenched; he was battling his own emotions. Ivy had a sudden urge to simply throw her arms around him and give him a hug. As annoyingly arrogant as he was, she felt like this strong rugged man just needed a hug.

“I have to get to work. I’ll call your daddy and tell him to come pick you up. I’ll tell him I changed my mind and I don’t need help around the house after all.” He said, in a flat emotionless voice and then he was out of the door.

Ivy threw the kitchen towel from her hands to the floor in anger. What was wrong with this man? He made her want to scream. Why couldn’t he just say something to her? Tell her the truth? Why was he pushing her away, when he clearly just needed some human company?

Ivy clenched and unclenched her fists and then turned around and tied her hair up in a bun. The golden ringlets framed the sides of her face, exposing her delicate pale long neck. She told herself that she didn’t care anymore. That was all she could do. If Leon Cooper didn’t want to be open to her, if he didn’t want to talk about what was going on in his life, she couldn’t make him.

All she could do now was kill time till her father arrived. Her father would tell her, he told her so. But she would lie and tell him that Leon Cooper changed his mind. She wouldn’t allow her father to find out what happened between them, and she wouldn’t let him find out that Leon Cooper was firing her because he couldn’t keep his hands off her and it made him feel guilty.

Ivy strode out of the house in a huff. She was going to find the horses, and she was going to brush them. She was going to brush them so good that Leon Cooper would regret his decision to banish her.

She walked determinedly towards the stable, till she spotted the chestnut colored beauty that Leon had been riding the previous day. She would begin with that horse, she decided. She blew some ringlets of golden hair off her nose as she placed her hands on her hips and smiled at the horses in the stable. If Leon was going to fire her for being attracted to her, she was going to show him that she was made of more than just an ability to turn him into warm butter in her hands.

* * *

Ivy had worked with horses before; she had brushed several horses as well. Her uncle had a ranch, much smaller than this, but she helped him and her cousins sometimes as a teenager, when her parents allowed her to.

But none of those horses were as feisty as this one.

Ivy brushed the horse gently, trying to cooingly talk to her as she patted her down. The horse neighed loudly and wouldn’t stand still.

With crossed brows, Ivy couldn’t understand what she was doing wrong. Animals loved her usually, especially horses. She stepped away from the horse and stood with her hands on her hips.

“What’s wrong horsey?” She spoke to the horse in a childish voice. “Are you afraid of me still?” She asked. An idea struck her, and Ivy decided that the best way to get the house accustomed to her touch would be to climb on her back and pat her down from there. It sometimes calms horses down.

Excitedly, Ivy hooked her foot on the saddle loops and hauled herself up on the horse, talking to her the whole time. But it had barely been a few moments that she was up on the horse, before she knew that it had been a bad decision. This horse was more agitated now than she had been before.

Still locked behind the gates of the stable, the horse began to neigh loudly and was kicking her hind legs high up in the air. The horse was trying to fling Ivy off of her, while she tried to hold on for dear life. A jump from off a horse as tall as this would mean a cracked spine or a broken leg at the least.

She had started screaming already, holding on to the saddle, afraid of what could happen in any second.

Then she saw the stable door open and in a flash, Leon had climbed up on the saddle behind her.

“There there Mocha, I’m here now, it’s alright.” He was coming to the horse. He had reached over Ivy’s shrunken shoulder to pat the neck of the horse affectionately. Ivy was still scared stiff, holding on to the saddle with both her hands. Then she felt Leon’s hand rise up her waist and hold her, while he continued to stroke the horse with his other hand.

“I didn’t know…I couldn’t stop…” Ivy’s words were jumbled; she was still frightened and visibly shaking. In all her years of working with animals, and visiting ranches, no horse had reacted to her this way.

“It’s fine. She suffers from anxiety and is only calm when she sees me.” Leon had leaned in to whisper in Ivy’s ear. She felt his lip graze her earlobe as he spoke. The same mix of the scent of his masculinity with his aftershave rose up her nose, sending goosebumps down her arms.

“Sorry, I didn’t know.” Ivy whispered back to him.

“I only remembered right now that you said you would come to brush the horses. I didn’t get a chance to warn you not to go near her.” He said, in a gruff whisper, their bodies were still close together.

He was sitting behind her, with his legs hanging off the saddle of the horse, and Ivy could feel his growing throbbing dick pressing into her butt. She straightened her back, aware of his hand on her waist. She was struggling to contain herself, to stop herself from just simply turning around and kissing him. She wanted to do it, but she wasn’t sure how he would react. Even though she could feel that he was aroused by her.

“We must get off her now.” Leon said, back to his normal voice again, possibly aware that she could feel his growing dick. He moved away from her, his hands falling off her waist as he jumped off the saddle.

Ivy gulped as she looked down at him. Leon was still stroking the horse’s neck, whistling to her to comfort her.

“Just grab my hand and jump off, then step away from her as smoothly as you can. She’ll be alright as long as I’m here.” He said, looking up at her. Even though she was out of danger now, even though he had come to her rescue already, Ivy could see the worry on his face still. Leon Cooper had been worried for her? She nearly smiled.

Ivy grabbed his extended hand and used it as support to jump off the horse. Then in one quick step she had moved away from the anxious horse, who was still whimpering and neighing.

“She’s a beautiful, loving horse. But only to me.” Leon said, and turned to Ivy with an unexpectedly warm smile. She could see it in his eyes, he loved his horse, and that made her smile too.

“I can see that. You have a special place in your heart for Mocha.” Ivy said, holding his gaze. Leon’s smile lasted a few more seconds, before he looked away from her and kissed the horse’s neck.

“C’mon off to the house. You shouldn’t hang around here.” He said, and hurriedly led the way out of the stable. Ivy smoothened her skirt with her hands and followed him, unable to suppress the smile on her face.

In the midst of a dangerous situation, she had seen a different and new side to Leon that she couldn’t have predicted. He wasn’t angry with her, as she had expected him to be, he wasn’t angry with the horse either. He had thought quickly, come to her rescue and completed the task without losing his temper.

Ivy watched his muscular back as she followed him back towards the house. Why was he forcing her to go away? She didn’t want to go away. She wanted to stay with him, feel his hands on hers, find out as much as she could about him, because there was no greater mystery to her than Leon Cooper. But he didn’t seem to want to be solved, he wanted to be left alone.

* * *

Leon left Ivy alone in the house for several hours, and she wasn’t sure if he had even called her father yet. She cleaned the rooms, dusted, washed the dishes and in a few hours, went down to her bedroom and sat on the bed looking outside.

She was still not happy to go. Especially now that Leon had revealed a new side to him that she hadn’t expected to find. This was the man who had taken her virginity, the one to whom she had given it willingly, and she didn’t simply want to forget about him that easily.

At around mid-day, she heard Leon enter the house again, and then the sound of his boots approaching her bedroom door. Ivy sat up in bed, wringing her hands together. She was afraid of hearing the words she believed he was going to say, “Your daddy is on his way to pick you up.”

Leon knocked on the door, and Ivy cleared her throat before asking him to come in.

He had his hat in his hands, and a somber expression on his face. He had only opened the door, but hadn’t stepped in. It seemed like he was also avoiding her eyes.

“I spoke to your daddy and he said that he won’t be able to pick you up till day after morning, he can’t leave the business open.”

When Ivy heard the words, she tried to suppress a smile. She didn’t want to give away how delighted she was to hear him say that.

“So, I’ll drive you up there today.” He added and Ivy’s face dropped immediately.

“You don’t have to do that.” She was quick to assert, getting off the bed.

“Well, there is no other way. You can’t walk back, it’s twenty miles away.” He said, finally meeting her eyes. The sparkle in his brown eyes had returned for some reason.

“I don’t want to walk back, that isn’t what I meant.” Ivy said, feeling her cheeks beginning to flush again.

“Well, you can’t stay here.” He said gruffly and shrugged his shoulders.

Ivy stepped towards him and Leon stepped hurriedly back, like he was trying to defend himself against an attack.

“Why don’t I stay here till my daddy is ready to come and pick me up?” She asked him.

Leon looked at her silently, his face grim again. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her any more, she could see him studying her figure, her face, the curves of her breasts. He was trying to decide if he would be able to keep his hands off her or not.

“You need somebody for the house any way.” She said, with a tear in her voice.

“I can do it myself. I’m better off alone.” He growled, snapping off suddenly from his fantasies of her.

Ivy shook the curls off her face and took a few more steps towards him. Leon was following her with his eyes.

“You can’t. And I know you like my cooking.” She said with a smile on her face, and she placed a hand on his chest.

Leon’s gaze fell to it immediately, and in one swift motion he shook her hand off of him. This was not the same kind, concerned man who had saved her from that anxious horse. He was back to being the same brooding Leon who she was first introduced to.

“Don’t assume you know me, and keep your hands off me, woman.” He barked at her, and was quick to move away.

Ivy was suddenly more embarrassed than she had ever been before. This was an outright affront. He had directly communicated to her now that he didn’t want anything to do with her, that the previous night’s sex had been a mistake.

Ivy could feel hot tears pricking the back of her eyelids, as she tried to stop herself from bursting out in tears.

“You can stay here till your daddy picks you up, but only because I have too much work to do to go around giving people lifts. Just stay out of my way.” He said and turned away from her.

Ivy remained where she was, till she heard the sound of the slamming front door.

Then she started crying. Hot fat tears were rolling down her cheeks, as she remained standing with her hands clasped together.

She felt like she had made a fool of herself. She had thrown herself at a man who only treated her with anger and contempt. She wanted to get away. She would go away.

Ivy slammed the bedroom door shut and sprung herself on the bed, reaching for her cellphone which was on the bedside table now. Her father had sent her a few text messages, which she ignored. She was only interested in the internet now, and accessing the emails that had been sent to her in the last few days.

She re-read the email that had been lying there in her inbox, unanswered for several days.

“Dear Ms. Ivy Hart,

Thank you for applying for the position of Secretary to Mr. George Hernandez. We are pleased with your CV and would like to offer you the position.

How soon will you be able to relocate to Miles City?

Kind Regards,

Debbie Howard

Recruitment Associate, Hernandez & Co.”

She had managed to keep the email a secret for several days, from her father and even from herself. She was ignoring it, and hoping that something better would come along, in her own town instead, which would mean that she wouldn’t have to move to Miles City. But she felt now, like Leon was forcing her to go away. She felt like she had no place here in this town any more. That it was destiny pushing her in the direction of this new job, on the other side of the State. Far away from this no-good small town and from a man who she should have stayed away from to begin with.

* * *

“Where is my dinner?” Leon’s voice was thundering outside Ivy’s bedroom door.

She had lain in bed all day, and now she looked up from her phone screen and rolled her eyes.

“Ivy?” He called out to her, and knocked on her door this time, when she hadn’t responded to him.

She continued to remain silent, and instead of answering him, turned over to the other side, her back facing the door, just seconds before he burst in through the door. She looked at him over her shoulder, and he had that worried expression on his face again. Did he think she had run away?

“I’m staying away from you, just like you asked me to.” She said, with a bored look on her face. He looked like he was just about to burst into flames though.

“Why haven’t you made us dinner yet? It’s past eight.” He said, clutching the doorknob with his hand, where she could see that his knuckles had started to turn white.

“Why should I be making you any dinner? You fired me from the job remember.” She said, still not turning to face him.

“What are you going to eat then?” He asked. She could see that he was trying very hard to calm himself down.

“I’m not hungry, and besides, a few pounds knocked off of me might actually do me some good.” She said nastily, and looked away from him.

“Don’t you ever say that!” She heard him say, and then there were footsteps behind her. When Ivy looked over again, she realized that he was standing right behind her, at the edge of the bed, glaring down at her with narrowed eyes.

“Don’t say that, Ivy. You don’t need to knock off any pounds. You are beautiful.” He said, in a much more subdued voice, taking her by surprise.

She straightened herself up and sat up straight to face him more clearly now. He was watching her as she pulled her knees close to her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs as she looked up at him.

“Why don’t you just leave me alone, Leon? I thought we were going to stay out of each other’s way till daddy came to pick me up.” Ivy said, taking in a deep breath. As much as she had prepared herself to believe that Leon was a lost cause to her, that she shouldn’t be pursuing him, she still couldn’t help but conjure up the same feelings for him. His broad neck, his wide chest, those big rugged rough hands. She couldn’t stop thinking about how delicate and small he had made her feel when he had her in his arms. She wanted to nuzzle her nose into the hair on his chest.

“You should get something to eat.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at her.

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much. Why don’t you just worry about your own meal?” Ivy rolled her eyes at him and said.

“Stop being difficult, Ivy.” She heard him say, and then his hands were on her. He was trying to haul her off the bed, while she started kicking her legs wildly.

“I don’t want to eat. Just leave me alone, Leon. I want to stay away from you!” She was screaming at the top of her lungs, while he drew her in closer to himself. She knew she was acting childishly, that she was overreacting, but she felt overwhelmed. She couldn’t understand his alternating hot and coldness, what he wanted from her. All she knew was that she wanted him, and he was too complicated for her to have.

Leon pulled her closer to him, and with his hand he pressed her head down on his chest, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace.

Ivy could feel her breath getting stuck in her throat as he held her. She wasn’t crying, but she could feel the stinging reddening sensation in her nose which was always followed with tears. But Leon had managed to suffocate that, she was so taken aback by his kindness, the way he held her to his chest, that she could do nothing but be amazed by what was happening. She was actually in Leon Cooper’s arms.

She could feel his heart beating against her ears, as he kept his hand pressed on the back of her head. She slowly drew her arms around his waist and remained there, submerged in the moment, her eyes slowly closing to the comfort of that position.

“Ivy.” She heard him say her name, and her eyes flew open again.

“Yes.” She said, in a soft embarrassed voice. She was ashamed of how dramatic she had just been.

“Will you let me kiss you again?” He said, in a similar low voice as hers.

She hurriedly drew herself away from him, she was so surprised to hear him ask that. How did he not yet know, that was all she wanted? To be kissed by him, to be fucked by him. That was all she wanted from the moment she laid her eyes on him.

She lifted herself up on her toes, and this time she was the one who kissed him, pulling his lips into her mouth, her hands traveling up his hard-muscular chest. His hands were on her waist, drawing her closer to his body. She closed her eyes, to experience the fullness of that kiss, how tender and gentle it was. How it wasn’t hungry or wild at all, like it had been before. Suddenly, she wanted to break down and cry again. Because she knew this would lead to nothing, that as much as she wanted Leon sexually, she also knew by now that he could give her nothing more. Leon was damaged goods and she wouldn’t be able to fix him.

* * *

Leon’s mouth was on Ivy’s neck. He was tracing her throat with his tongue, while his hands held her tightly, close to his chest. She had her hands on his shoulders, with her head doubled back, giving him the freedom to do with her as he pleased.

She could feel herself growing wet again. The roughness of his stubble tingled her skin where he was licking her. She wanted to unbutton his shirt, feel the honey smooth skin of his shoulders on her fingertips.

She could feel his growing dick pressing into her belly. He was as out of control as she was. She could feel herself smiling.

“Ivy.” He muttered her name, as she felt his hands grazing up her leg, pulling up her skirt to her waist. His hands were on the inside of her thighs next, touching the soft skin there, squeezing and kneading it with his hands.

“You are so wet. You’re so ready for me.” He said, in her ear as she felt his fingers beginning to stroke her, through the fabric of her wet panties. His fingers were rough, and he was gently stroking her there, making her wetter, making it more swollen. She cried out from the pleasure.

When Ivy opened her eyes, she saw that Leon was smiling. He had his eyes on her face, and he was enjoying looking at her writhe with pleasure.

“Leon, don’t torture me like this.” She said to him, whispering the words. And he started stroking her harder. She wanted more than just his fingers now, she wanted to feel that dick slide into her again. She wanted to see him naked, feel his throbbing growing core in her mouth. She wanted him to cry out with pleasure, the same way she was doing now. But he wouldn’t let her go, he continued to stroke her, preparing her for what was to come.

She leaned forward to kiss him again, and this time their kiss was rough. They were both desperate and hot with anticipation. He nibbled on her bottom lip as she explored his mouth with her tongue. His hand remained under her skirt, stroking her still. She was afraid that she would lose control there and then, that she would orgasm quicker than he was expecting her to. She was holding herself back, she was trying to control it, but his fingers, dripping and slippery with her own juices, was making it very difficult.

“Rip off my clothes, Leon. Make me feel good again.” She found herself saying, and to her surprise, his fingers suddenly stopped moving.

With a quick jerk, he had released her from his arms, and Ivy went falling back. She fell back on the bed, and gasped with surprise. What was going on?

Leon stumbled back, rubbing his hands over his face. He suddenly looked exhausted and angry again.

“What’s the matter? What happened?” Ivy cried, sitting up, watching his confused expression change to rage.

“I’m sorry, Ivy. I can’t make you feel good.” He said, running his fingers through his shaggy blonde hair.

“What are you talking about, Leon?” She asked him, biting down on her lip.

“I can’t make you feel good. I can’t make you happy.” He muttered, looking about the room like he wasn’t sure where he was.

“Leon, is this about your past? What’s the matter?” She cried, jumping off the bed and rushing towards him.

Leon stepped back, his back hitting the closed door of the room. Ivy placed her hands on his chest, in an attempt to calm him, but he glared at her, like he wanted to run away.

“I can’t make women happy. You are too lovely, you’re too beautiful and smart to want me. I will only end up hurting you.” He said, in a low guttural voice.

Ivy shook her head, still biting her lip.

“Who told you that? What are you talking about?” She barked at him, clutching the front of his shirt with her hands.

“The woman I wanted to marry.” He said, finally meeting her eyes. Ivy’s hands dropped from his chest.

“You’re in love with someone else?” She asked, stepping away from him.

Leon remained silent, and averted his gaze from her again.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were in love with somebody else.” Ivy said, the tears returning now. She knew she should have stayed away from him. She knew he wasn’t the man for her.

“Ivy, look…” He began to say but she interrupted him.

“I understand now, Leon. You can’t change what the heart wants. I was foolish to throw myself at you.” She said harshly, angrier with herself than anything else.

“No, you’re not…” He tried to say, but she had stopped him again.

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore, Leon. I won’t be making a fool of myself again. I’m going away.” She said, clasping her hands to the front. He jerked his head up to look at her.

“No, you don’t have to. I’ll tell your daddy you can work here as long as you want. I was being selfish. You need a job, and I need an employee.” He said, meeting her eyes.

Ivy shook her head.

“No, I have another job. I’m going away. I’ll leave town soon. You don’t have to worry. You can hire somebody else, someone who won’t tempt you and seduce you and trouble you.” She said and whipped around from him.

“You’re leaving town?” She heard him ask from behind her.

“Yes.” She replied, hoping that he would ask her where. Hoping that there was still some hope, that he might still want her.

“I’ll leave a sandwich for you on the kitchen counter, in case you get hungry later.” He said, after a few moments of silence. And then he was gone, he had left her room and gently shut the door behind him.

Ivy fell back down on the bed, drawing the covers up close to her chin. She had never felt this miserable before, and all for a man who was in love with somebody else.

* * *

Ivy didn’t get out of bed the next day till mid-day. Even then, she showered slowly, changed into a pair of old loose jeans and a fresh blouse, not in any hurry to leave the room. She figured, the less she saw of Leon, the better it would be for her to control her feelings.

Her blonde curls were still damp when she stepped out of the room and into the kitchen. She was surprised to find Leon sitting at the table, black rimmed glasses on his eyes and a pen suspended in the air.

“What are you doing?” She blurted out.

He had a thick stack of papers before him on the table, and a long register open where he was trying to either make notes, or calculate something.

He looked up at her, over the lenses of his spectacles. Suddenly, he looked much older, wiser and even more serious if he possibly could.

“Trying to do my accounts. I’ve never been too good at it.” He said.

Ivy crossed her arms and leaned on the door frame, with a sarcastic smile on her face. She hadn’t ever thought that Leon Cooper might ever admit to a shortcoming.

“You look mighty lost alright.” She said, the smile growing wider.

Leon pulled the glasses off his face and folded them on the table, looking at her with those chocolate brown eyes that she had grown to become so fond of.

“Do you want to help me? Or are you just going to stand there and make fun of me?” He asked, raising a mischievous eyebrow at her.

Ivy pursed her lips, enjoying this other new side of him.

“How long have you been sitting there? Secretly waiting for me to come out of my room, cowboy?” She asked, walking in his direction now.

He finally smiled. That same warm wide smile that always took her by surprise. It was strange to think that he was probably at least half a decade older than her, or maybe even more. In that instance, she felt more authoritative and wiser than him. He wasn’t trying to pretend that he knew more than her.

“Since eight o clock.” He said and Ivy burst out laughing.

She pulled out a chair at the table and sat down across from him.

She noticed the handsome plaid shirt he was wearing, the dampness of his sandy blonde hair, his clean-shaven jaw. He too had just taken a shower.

“You’re not working out on the ranch today?” She asked, absent-mindedly pulling the stack of papers towards her. They had never had such a normal, regular conversation before and Ivy was lost in enjoying the simplicity of it. Neither were they at each other’s throats, or trying to rip the clothes off each other.

“I have to get this done.” He said, running his fingers through his damp hair. Just watching him do that filled her with a sudden warmth. Just a small regular gesture, but it made him a bit more human.

She nodded her head, running her eyes over the papers in front of her.

“Now, I’m no accountant, but I took a few classes in college, just to study the business side of farming.” She said, looking up at him again.

“Give it your best shot, because mine looks like that.” Leon said, pointing at the stack of papers with a grin on his face. Ivy grinned back at him.

“Well, I can begin with arranging this in the right order first, and then we can take it from there. Do you have a record of all your business receipts? Bank transfers? The forms that need to be filled up?” She asked, crossing her legs and turning to him with a serious, business-like expression.

Leon stood up from his chair and nodded his head.

“I think so. I’ll go look for them, and pile them up there in a box or something.” He said.

“This could take a while, Leon.” Ivy said, stopping him as he made his way out of the kitchen.

“I don’t expect you to do much. Just help me out with what you can, and then I’ll hire an accountant for the rest of it.” He said, their eyes meeting again. Ivy blushed, because she couldn’t stop thinking about how nice this was. How normal this felt.

“Sure. What did you do before this? With your money, I mean.” She said, genuinely wondering how a billionaire cowboy managed all his funds.

Leon shrugged his shoulders.

“My father did it. I just worked our farms and ranch in Minnesota. When he died, I bought this place. I’ve never looked into the business side of things. This is all new to me.” He said frankly, and Ivy smiled again. Suddenly he looked like a much younger version of himself, lost and confused.

“You’ll get the hang of it soon, it’s not that hard.” She said and he nodded, before disappearing out of the room.

She sighed as she looked at the papers again.

She had lied, it wasn’t that easy and all of the paperwork looked like at least ten days’ worth of work.

But after the next day it wasn’t going to be her problem anymore. Once her father picked her up, she could forget about the ranch, Leon Cooper and his accounts. For now, she was planning on enjoying working with him, in a few hours it would be night again and then the dawn of a new day.

She bit down on her lips as she thought about that moment when he had walked into her father’s pub. She could still remember how she had felt by just looking at him. He still made her feel that way, but the wise thing to do would be to just train herself to forget about it.

* * *

“You really do need to get an accountant!” Ivy said, widening her eyes at Leon who was sitting across from her at the table. The glasses were back on his face and he had a pencil stuck behind his ear.

He looked up at her, again from on top of his glasses and gave a smirk.

“Tell me about it.” He said.

Ivy licked her lips. They had been at it for several hours now and she had lost track of time. They both had a pile of papers in front of them each, trying to sort through all the business transactions that she could account for. She had managed to arrange a few things for the filing forms, but the rest of it was going to take ages. And she had been very careful till now to not make any comments on how much money this man actually had.

He sure didn’t dress that way. Leon Cooper’s arrogance wasn’t a moneyed sophisticated one, it was more masculine and brooding. If she didn’t know anything about him, where he lived, how luxurious this mansion was…she would never have guessed that he was a billionaire.

“Thank you, Ivy. For doing this.” He said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. She looked up at him and their eyes met again. They had shared a good few peaceful working hours, putting their disputes and their worries behind them. She felt comfortable in his presence, like she could be herself, like he appreciated the work she was putting into all this.

“You’re welcome. See, I am good for more than just cooking meals.” Ivy said with a laugh.

“Of course you are. Which is why I’m glad you have a new job. A different one. I would be very guilty keeping you here, cooped up in my ranch, doing the dishes.” He said, placing the papers in his hands on the table.

Ivy flicked the curls on her face to the side and licked her lips again.

“That’s what daddy keeps telling me too. But what about what I want?” She asked, daring to meet his sparkling eyes.

“What do you want?” He asked, softly.

“I want to stay in this town. This is my home. This is where I feel closest to my mother. And I don’t want to work in a big fancy corporate office. That wouldn’t make me happy.” Ivy said, and stood up from her chair. She could sense that Leon was following her with his eyes.

“But there’s nothing for you here. For a beautiful smart young woman like you.” She heard him say, and Ivy whipped around to face him again.

“See, that’s what daddy keeps telling me as well. But nobody gives me the opportunity. He doesn’t let me help him run his business. I’m good at accounts, I’m good with customers. I’ll be good at managing a business. But he won’t let me. He thinks I’m meant for greatness, but what if I just want to be great here. In our town. In my home.” Ivy had worked herself up with the speech. She could feel her neck flushing, her cheeks growing red.

She could see that Leon’s eyes had travelled to her red-as-apples cheeks. His eyes softened, and he stood up as well.

“Well, I guess you have to just convince him.” He said, and there were several moments of silence between them.

“But I have a job now. Maybe in a few years I can come back again, maybe then he’ll give me a shot again.” She said and turned to the kitchen sink. There were a few dishes in the sink, which she started cleaning.

“Leave those be, Ivy. I’ll do them later.” She heard him say, but she didn’t stop. She kept washing them.

“I need to get a dishwasher.” He said, and she smiled to herself. Then she sensed him walking close to her.

“Leave them Ivy. You don’t work for me anymore.” He said and his hands were on hers. She felt her skin tingle with his touch, as he tugged her hand away from the sink. He turned her gently to face him, and the smile on his face was gone.

“I wish you the best of luck in your life, Ivy.” He said, somberly. But he sounded like he meant it. Ivy’s hands were wet from the soapy water of the sink but he still held them tightly, keeping her facing him as they stood.

“You deserve the best in life. I don’t know you at all, but I know you’re a great girl. Someday you’ll make a man very happy.” He said, and slowly let her hands go.