A plea she couldn’t ignore, she thought splaying her fingers against his warm skin. Still looking into his eyes, she let herself explore the solid muscles of his chest and belly. She felt the individual ridges of his six-pack, the slight curve of his pecs. His shoulders were broad, his arms defined.

He was taller than her. Stronger. Masculine enough to make her feel feminine. Sort of. She circled behind him, still stroking him, liking the sense of being in control.

His jeans sat low on his hip. She traced the line of his waistband, then slid her palms up his back.

She stepped closer, pressing her front to his back. She rested her cheek against his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. He put his arms over hers, holding her in place. Then he reached for his belt and the button at the waistband of his jeans.

She felt his jeans hit the floor. He eased away enough for briefs to follow.

Charlie wondered how on earth she’d come to have Clay Stryker and his million-dollar ass na**d in her kitchen.

She stood behind him, her arms at her side, not sure what to do or where to look. He started to turn around but she yelped and grabbed his arm.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Face me. I’m not ready.”

“It’s just a penis. You’ve seen them before.”

“The last one attacked me.”

“Mine is more well mannered.” His voice sounded as if he were amused.

She glared at his back. “Are you laughing? This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

She tightened her grip on his arms. “I could leave a bruise, mister.”

“You could, but you won’t. You’re going to have to look at me eventually.”

“Not necessarily. We could do it in the dark.”

“Where’s the fun in that? I like looking. Did I ever tell you my ass was insured for five million dollars? It was for the vodka campaign.”

The switch in topic had her stepping back and studying the body part in question. While she hadn’t seen that many, she had to admit Clay’s was by far the best. High, tight, muscled. He had dimples and long powerful legs.

“Would you get any of the money?” she asked. “If something had happened?”

“Nope. It would go to the company.”

She put her hand on his hip. “You don’t have any tattoos.”

“I don’t like needles. Hug me again, Charlie. I like how that feels.”

She drew in a breath, then moved closer, again pressing her front to his back. As she was fully clothed, she couldn’t feel his skin against hers, but knowing he was na**d still seemed to change everything.

She placed her hands on his belly, one above the other and tried not to think about what was below. To distract herself, she lightly kissed him on his left shoulder blade. She liked how that felt, so she did it again.

“Nice,” he murmured. “You could take your shirt off. Maybe your bra.”

She considered the offer. She would like to feel her br**sts pressing against him. “Okay, but you won’t turn around.”

“Not even if it kills me.”

She pulled off her T-shirt and quickly unfastened her bra. She hung both over the back of the kitchen chair, then eased up behind him, sliding her hands around his body. Then she leaned close, her br**sts nestling into his back.

She returned to kissing him as she had before, only this time she also moved her chest back and forth, dragging her ni**les against his skin. The friction aroused her, making her breathing more shallow and igniting heat between her thighs. She added little nips to the kisses, biting gently, then soothing that spot with her tongue.

A shudder rippled through him. His muscles tensed then relaxed. Knowing she was playing with fire but unable to resist, she eased her hands to his h*ps and slid partway down.

When she stopped, Clay swore.

“Charlie.”

Her name came out as a growl. Rather than frightening her, his need gave her courage. She moved her right hand toward his erection. She’d barely moved an inch when his fingers covered hers and he guided her into place.

She closed her hand around his penis. He was big and thick, plenty hard. She explored the length of him, circling her fingers over the tip, before sliding back to the base. Instead of fear or even apprehension, all she felt was desire. Wanting made her tremble and when she thought about him turning and pushing into her, her breath caught in her throat.

She straightened, prepared to turn him to face her, when his cell phone rang. The sharp high notes of his ringtone cut through the silence.

“Ignore it,” Clay told her.

“Gladly.”

She released him and stepped back, then put her hand on his arm. He shifted toward her. She kept her gaze on his face, determined to stay in the mood and not get scared. The passion in his eyes thrilled her. He might have taken her on as a project, but he was a man who was enjoying his work.

He held out his arms and she went into them eagerly. She raised her head, desperate for his kiss, his touch. Her phone rang.

Charlie drew in a breath. “Someone thinks it’s important,” she said and turned to grab her phone.

“Hello?”

“Charlie? It’s Shane. Is Clay there?”

“He is. Just a second.”

She handed over the phone. “Shane.”

As Clay took the receiver, she retrieved her shirt and pulled it on, then she leaned against the counter and waited, hoping nothing really awful had happened. There were only a handful of reasons Clay’s brother would have chased him down and very few of them were good.

“You’re sure?” Clay asked, after listening for about a minute. “It’s not a mistake?”

He swore under his breath. “I’ll be right there.” He pushed the end button on her phone and handed it to her.

“Sorry. There’s a problem at the ranch. I have to go.” As he spoke, he pulled up his briefs and then slipped on his jeans.

She watched him dress, aware she was disappointed rather than relieved. A win for her, although she was sorry Clay had to deal with something difficult.

He gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll call you,” he promised as he jogged to the front door.

Then he was gone.

She stood alone in the kitchen, aware the “I’ll call you” statement hadn’t been part of their deal. She assured herself it was an automatic response. It wasn’t as if she and Clay were involved on an emotional level. Still, she found herself glancing at the phone and wondering when that call would occur.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING the news wasn’t any better. Clay stood by the side of what should have been his alfalfa field, unable to grasp what had happened.

In an effort to get the land cleared ahead of schedule, Nate had gone out to put in a couple of hours after dinner. The days were still long and the weather was good. He’d been doing his thing, minding his own business, when the metal teeth had pulled up something that shouldn’t be there. Human bone.

Annabelle squeezed his arm. “I’m so sorry,” she told Clay.

“Me, too.”

“I might be wrong.”

“Not likely.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m pretty sure.”

The area he’d wanted for his alfalfa field was smack over a Máa-zib burial site.

Shane had called Annabelle right after he called Clay. She had a minor in Máa-zib studies. She’d taken one look at the partially uncovered grave and had given him the bad news. Sure enough, just walking over the area had been enough for them to see at least two other graves.

Clay wasn’t sure exactly how these things worked, but he knew the bottom line was he would lose at least a couple of acres to the city, maybe the state. Worse was the time that was lost and the nagging sense that the graves were an omen of more to come.

“We have company,” Annabelle said.

He turned and saw several older women walking toward him. He recognized the mayor and a few of the city-council members. Despite wearing a suit and low heels, the mayor still looked completely comfortable as she walked over tilled soil.

“I understand we have an important discovery,” the mayor said as she approached. “Very exciting.”

Clay shook her hand. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t share your enthusiasm.”

“Of course. You see this as a setback. I suppose in the short-term it is. But not to worry, Clay. I have every confidence in what you’re going to accomplish.”

Clay wished he could say the same about himself. Having doubts had been bad enough, but this was a serious problem.

Mayor Marsha turned to Annabelle. “Thank you for recognizing the find. This is going to be so interesting for the experts.” She smiled. “They’ll start complaining about how we keep calling them back. Last year for the gold find and earlier this summer for the cave paintings.”

Annabelle’s gaze shifted away at the mention of the cave paintings. “Yes, well, these seem to be very genuine graves,” she said. “While I feel badly for Clay, the importance of the find is extraordinary.” She briefly leaned against him. “I know this messes up the planting for now, but just think. We could have a small museum, maybe a working site with archeologists that tourists could observe. That would be fun for your Haycation people.”

“I’m sure it will be,” Clay said.

The mayor studied him. “Do you have enough land still? I can speak with the owner of the outlying area and see if he will sell you a few more acres. The price would be fair.”

“Thank you,” Clay said. “I appreciate the offer. I’m good for now. We’re going to have to clear more land to plant. We still have the equipment, so it’s not a big problem. If the weather holds, the fall alfalfa will still be planted.”

There was more polite chitchat. When the mayor and Annabelle started talking access roads, Clay excused himself. He walked toward the main house. Nate was waiting for him.

“How bad is it, boss?” the other man asked.

“Bad enough. We’re going to have to clear two more acres to make up for this one.”

“That’s going to put us behind.”

“Tell me about it.”

* * *

CHARLIE ARRIVED HOME from her shift to find Clay waiting on her front porch. Once again he had coffee and a box of Danish. While the caffeine and sugar rush were appealing, she was willing to admit she was just a little more interested in the man himself.

She climbed out of her truck, aware this wasn’t one of their scheduled times. Still, she went all tingly anyway and had to consciously keep from running up the walkway.

“Morning,” he called when he saw her. “Is it okay I stopped by?”

“Of course.”

He rose as she approached. She expected him to step out of her way. Instead he leaned in and kissed her.

The contact was brief. More greeting than seduction. But she liked the way he was so matter-of-fact about it. As if they’d reached the place where they kissed easily and without thought.

She took the coffee he offered and led him inside the house.

“Any more news on the burial site?” she asked. He’d called her at the station the previous day to tell her what had happened. She’d had to hang up to go on a run.

“The experts will be arriving today. Nate and I have figured out where we’re going to plow next. Time is ticking for my crop.”

He smiled at the words, but she could see worry and self-doubt in his eyes. When he set the Danish on the table, she crossed to him and put her hands on his shoulders. A seemingly casual act. Fortunately Clay couldn’t feel her pounding heart or know there was nothing casual about it for her. Touching a man was still strange. But she was determined to follow the “fake it until you make it” philosophy of getting by when it came to Clay.

“You’ll be fine,” she said, staring into his dark eyes. “This is a setback, but one you can manage.”

“I know. Mayor Marsha came by. She said if I needed to buy more land, she knows a guy.” The smile briefly returned. “Okay, she didn’t say it like that.”

“Good. Because I don’t like thinking of the mayor as someone who knows a guy.” She dropped her hands. “You’ll get your fall alfalfa planted and all will be well.”

“I’m telling myself that.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“I’m still questioning myself on picking Nate. Maybe that was a mistake. Even Dante said to listen to my gut and I didn’t.”

“Are you unhappy with Nate’s work?”

“No.”

She tilted her head. “Then what’s the problem?”

“Rafe’s always been in charge. He was running the family when he was ten. Shane managed one of the biggest Thoroughbred breeding programs in the country. I’m a former underwear model.”

Self-doubt she understood. She took his hands in hers. Again, a conscious and slightly uncomfortable action, but it seemed appropriate.

“You’re a smart guy. You have the education and a vision. Drive matters more than experience. If you need help, ask. Until then, don’t assume you’ve made a mistake until the evidence is in. If you do screw up, then fix it.”

“Advice I’ve heard before.”

“Then why aren’t you listening?”

He leaned in and kissed her again, more slowly this time. His mouth lingered, which caused her thighs to heat up and her br**sts to start that achy thing they were so good at.

When he straightened, she found herself wanting to protest.