Kneeling, Mary overturned a pile of straw but failed to turn up her bra. As much as she disliked the uncomfortable garment, she needed to find it soon. She already had on her pants, socks, and boots, and held her T-shirt tucked under her arm. But going topless with her boobs hanging out made her feel more than a damn sight conspicuous.

"Whatcha lookin' for?" Demetri asked in a lazy drawl. Fully clothed, he leaned against the side of the stall. He lounged with his arms crossed over his broad chest and his long legs stretched out.

"My bra has gone missing." Mary shot him a sharp glance. The man appeared ever so smug, as handsome as the days were hot and the nights long. She huffed in irritation. "You might help."

"Now why would I do that? The view is just spectacular." Demetri chuckled, low and husky. He held his gaze steady, but he sure as heck wasn't looking at her eyes.

Beneath his sexy stare, her nipples hardened. Visceral heat tugged at her core. More than that, his open admiration inspired her to take pride in her own body. She perceived herself as he seemed to see her—voluptuous, rather than overweight.

"So you like what you see?" Emboldened, Mary squared her shoulders and lifted her chest, flaunting her generous cleavage. She deliberately rolled her hips.

"You'd better stop that. Unless you want to wind up on your back again." He swayed in sync like a mesmerized cobra.

"Tempting, but it's late. And we have to be up early. The water pump on the east pasture isn't working. How are you at plumbing?" She stepped toward him and placed two fingers beneath his chin, tilting his face.

He looked up, blue eyes smiling. "Rusty but I can take a look at it."

"That'd be great." Mary knit her brow and crossed her fingers that the fix was within Demetri's skillset. She couldn't afford to pay a plumber to come out.

"Hey, no frowning." Demetri swooped down and stole a kiss. He feathered his lips over hers, a fleeting touch, but tantalizing enough to curl her toes.

"I really need to find my bra." Mary took a quick step back, fisting her hands to stop herself from reaching for him. She'd have liked nothing more than to pull him down for another tumble in the hay.

A keen bark came from the entry of the stall. Reflexively, Mary covered herself and glanced over to discover Colleen seated beside the gate. A beige bra dangled from her mouth.

"There it is!" Mary took the garment from the dog.

"Spoilsport." Demetri looked askance of Colleen.

"Ignore him. Thank you." Mary shook the bra out, intending to pull it on, but changed her mind in a hurry. She grimaced and jerked her hand away from the cup. "Eww, it's soaked. Dog drool!"

"I take that back. Nice work." Demetri grinned from ear to ear, clearly pleased with the new development. He shook Colleen's paw, and she whipped her tail from side to side.

"Not funny. The two of you had better watch out. I'll getcha." Mary put on her T-shirt—sans bra—grumbling for effect. She hid a secret smile, in far too good a mood to be angry with either of them for real.

Their mirth faded, and tension remained in the aftermath. Leaving the stall—the site of their rambunctious lovemaking—proved an awkward affair. She'd loved every second of their tryst, but now that it was over, her secret misgivings came sneaking back. Had this been a terrible mistake? The prospect of falling in love and not having her feelings returned scared her to death. Mary stifled a heavy sigh and looked to Demetri for a signal on how to proceed.

"I'll walk you back to the house." Demetri led the way through the gate and latched it behind them. With Colleen trailing, they left the barn and stepped outside. In April, the air still got nippy at night.

Mary shivered. When Demetri wrapped his arm around her shoulders, she snuggled against him, grateful for his warmth. The casual intimacy of strolling beside her lover was an unexpected delight, and they reached the front porch far too soon for her preferences. More than anything, she wanted to invite Demetri inside to spend the night with her. Before this went any further, though, they needed to settle the matter of the big secret.

Well aware she sounded like a cliché, Mary took stepped back and plowed ahead with it. "We need to talk."

"Uh-oh. Should I be worried?" He cocked his head.

"Maybe, I don't know." Mary sank onto the porch swing rather than remain standing. A fleece throw hung over the back. She pulled it around her shoulders and patted the seat beside her. "When are you going to tell me the truth, Demetri?"

"Truth?" His tone grew careful and guarded, but at least he sat down. The old wicker swing creaked beneath his weight.

"About who—and what—you are. A ram-shifter." Mary challenged him with a head-on stare. Surprise flickered in his gaze but then slowly dawning realization replaced it. No anger, only quiet acceptance.

"Did Colleen tell you?" Demetri turned his regard toward the cattle dog.

Colleen responded with a snappish bark.

"No, Quentin told me," Mary supplied, quick and to the point. She'd made a deal with Colleen, one she meant to keep. It was all about the Girl Code.

"Quentin?" Demetri bunched his shoulders and tensed up.

"Quentin said you were a ram-shifter," Mary said, nodding. She talked fast because she didn't want to give Demetri time to think. If he dwelled on it too long, he'd start asking questions about the when and where of her conversation with Quentin that she preferred not to answer.

"And you didn't ask me?" Demetri turned his head.

"No. I have to admit, I didn't really believe it until I saw you in the south pasture with the flock."

Demetri's face slackened. "You knew that was me?"

"Of course I did." An irrepressible smile curved Mary's lips. "Your hair is the exact same color as your wool. Only a fool wouldn't've made the connection."

"Okay, that's a good point." Bashfully, Demetri ducked his head, running his hand through his telltale locks. He flattened the curls beneath his palm, but they sprang right back.

"I have a lot of good points," Mary quipped.

He started to nod, but then outrage replaced his chagrin. "You threatened to—" He sputtered, unable to complete the accusation.

"Oh, c'mon," Mary drawled with a smug grin. "I was just teasing."

"That wasn't funny!" Demetri flushed and jutted his jaw.

"No, it was hilarious." Mary looked him square in the eye. "And you had it coming. Besides, it was worth it. You looked so cute, fleeing with your fluffy tail held high."

"My tail's not fluffy," Demetri grumbled, but a slow, irrepressible mirth cracked his gruff exterior. A smile—one might even call it sheepish—curled the corners of his mouth.

"Be honest, it's fluffy."

"All right, maybe it's full and wooly." He huffed. "And maybe I did have that coming."

"You bet you had it coming. Keeping secrets from me after all that talk about truth and trust." She shook a finger—bad...

He frowned, working something through in his head. "When did Quentin tell you all this?"

Crap. Mary gulped. She'd rather hoped to evade this exact question. However, she supposed she had it coming, especially after going on about integrity. Goose, gander...or, in this case—ram, ewe? "I talked to Quentin a week ago. After he came out to the house, I went to see him in town."

"Mary, what were you thinking? That wasn't safe—"

"I was thinking I'm my own damn person, capable of making my own damn decisions!" Mary snapped and then regretted it. She softened her tone. "I had to be clear on what Quentin wanted and that wasn't going to happen with the both of you present."

He silenced, stroking his lower jaw. "All right, what else did that bastard say?"

"A whole bunch of things. Most of it wasn't important. The big takeaway was that he wants me. I think he has some sick fantasy about forcing me to beg him to take me back."

"That's not happening." He held himself in a way that conjured a clear mental image of ram's horns brandished for a head-on collision.

"Please, stow the canned, overprotective male rhetoric. It's sweet, and I appreciate the sentiment, but it's not happening because I won't allow it." Mary leveled an unwavering stare, and after a moment, Demetri offered her a nod and a smile.

"Go on," he said.

She took a deep breath, preparing for the humiliation that would come next. She didn't want to tell him, but they needed to get everything out in the open. She couldn't hold back just because something made her look like a fool. "Quentin stole the money that was supposed to go to cover the ranch's property tax payment. Of course, he hid it from me. I only just found out, but now the farm is in arrears—"

"How much?"

Mary pretended not to hear. She gripped her own hands together; her knuckles turned white. "It's my own fault. I shouldn't have trusted him to handle our finances. It makes me sick that I was so stupid."

"I'll cover the taxes." Demetri touched her arm.

Her startled glance flew to him. Dismay swamped her because the last thing she wanted him thinking was that she was attempting to manipulate him into offering to pay. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind. "No, I couldn't possibility borrow money from you. You don't even know how much!"

"How much doesn't matter, and it wouldn't be a loan. I'll give you however much you need, no strings attached. It's my duty to protect you and the flock." Demetri surged upright, a powerful jolt that set the swing to rocking. He adopted a determined stance, head down and shoulders squared, looking like he wanted nothing more than to charge straight into something.

"By what twisted reasoning is this your responsibility?" She turned on the seat to more fully face him.

Demetri scowled and worked his jaws. It took some time before he spat out a well-reasoned argument. "It just is."

"Ram-logic ain't no logic at all," Colleen interrupted, going heavier on the Oz accent than the first—and only other—time Mary had heard the dog speak. "There's no sense arguing with him. I've seen that look before. The man's gonna do whatever it is he's set his mind to 'n' no one else can tell 'im otherwise."

"Thanks, I sorta figured." Mary folded her arms, pulling the blanket tighter about herself. She wrestled with the dilemma. She'd be a liar to say Demetri's offer didn't tempt her. A part of her just wanted to take him up on it. Her pride refused to allow it, though.

"Huh!" Demetri pivoted to face Colleen. He studied the dog, and then turned to Mary as though looking for answers.

"Don't look at me. I'm pleading the Fifth." Mary spread her hands and adopted her best angel face. She traded a glance with Colleen—unspoken agreement passed between them to keep their lips sealed tight.

"I should've known." Demetri huffed, frowning down at Colleen.

The cattle dog wagged her tail, wholly unfazed. "Well, glad to have that out in the open. Demetri, as soon as you tell Mary your whole story, there won't be any more secrets."

Demetri greeted the announcement with ominous silence. A palpable shroud of grimness settled over him. A chill of fear coursed through Mary. She cast a worried glance at Colleen but the dog's serene expression offered no answers.

Colleen climbed to her feet and trotted off, heading into the yard. "I'm going to perform a final patrol and turn in. G'night, Mary."

"Good night, Colleen." Mary raised her hand in farewell.

Silence reigned until the dog had disappeared from sight. Mary inhaled, filling her lungs, and gathered her nerve. She asked, "What did she mean?"

A moth beat itself against the glass of the porch light. The frantic fluttering of its wings filled the conspicuous gap, and Mary likened its frustration to her own. With each second that ticked past, her sense of foreboding grew. It must be bad if Demetri was so reluctant to tell her, and she wondered just how terrible it could really be? They'd already survived several unsettling revelations.

"Do you know anything about Greek mythology?" Demetri asked, and the unexpected loudness of his voice startled her into giving a little jump.

"A bit," she said with a nervous laugh. "My English class in high school had a section on mythology. We read part of the Iliad..."

"My grandfather is Poseidon, the god of the sea."

"Your grandfather is a Greek god?" Mary blinked and then blinked again. Whatever she might've expected, it wasn't this.

"Yes. Poseidon turned the nymph Theophane into a ewe and himself into a ram. With her, he sired my father, Krios, who is the progenitor of the ram-shifter bloodline."

Mary's lips twitched. She had to bite her tongue.

A sardonic smile curled the corners of his mouth. "You can say it. The Greek gods are horny bastards."

She laughed softly, pressing her hands to her sides. "I wasn't going to say it."

"Krios is my father."

"Does this mean you're thousands of years old?"

"Not quite."

"Whew, because that'd be quite an age gap—"

"I'm only three hundred, give or take."

"Only...three hundred." Mary felt her eyes round to what surely must be proverbial platters. She couldn't quite bring herself to believe what she'd just heard. Leaning forward, she searched Demetri's face for a sign that he was only kidding.

"Krios was also the ram who was slaughtered to make the Golden Fleece." Demetri's tone turned harsh every time he said his father's name. Clearly, no love was lost between them.

"If he's dead then how...?" She knit her brow, boggling that one out.

"He was resurrected. It's a long and sordid story." Demetri waved his hand in dismissal. Clearly, he didn't want to drag all his family's skeletons out of the closet, and she didn't blame him.

"Okay. Go on." Mary tipped her chin.

"Fast forward a couple centuries. Krios became obsessed with Aleta, a maiden renown for her beauty and purity. As it happened, the god Ares, the god of war, desired Aleta for himself. They competed for her favor and Krios won."

"So, there's a happy ending?" Mary perked up. She still had no clue where the story was heading—or even the point of it—but she hoped it'd reach a conclusion sooner rather than later. If for no other reason than the suspense was killing her.

"No such thing in Greek mythology." Demetri pressed his lips together.

"Oh." Her stomach dropped.

"Ares was furious over having lost, so he killed Aleta and cursed Krios to wander the world for eternity. Only the love of his true soulmate can break the curse."

"That's awful." Mary gripped the edges of the blanket tighter. She could extrapolate what was coming, but foresight didn't make it any easier.

Demetri bowed his head and spoke with immeasurable anguish. "Krios has been searching for his soulmate ever since. Over the last two thousand years, he's seduced a lot of women...and fathered many children. He never stays for more than a year with any of them. At the end of the year, the curse forces him to move on, abandoning the mother and child. That's what Krios did to my mother."

"I'm so sorry, Demetri." Mary ached to go to him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and offer comfort, however, his remote stance discouraged physical contact.

"My mother died a long time ago." Demetri shrugged it off. "What matters is that my father keeps repeating the same bad behavior over and over again. I've made it my mission to track down Krios's other descendants. I suspect some of your flock carry ram-shifter genes."

Mary nodded, not surprised because she'd already figured as much. It made perfect sense, and she saw no reason to even get upset. If Demetri hadn't come in search of his far-flung relatives, they'd never have met, and that was a good thing.

"Over time, some of my brothers and sisters have joined me. We have a sanctuary for the sheep who carry our genes. When I find one of my brothers, I warn them about the curse."

"The curse?" A cold jolt lanced through Mary. Instinctively, she rose from the swing and braced, dreading what he was about to reveal.

"Krios passes the curse on to all his sons." Demetri's face was set in a stoic mask that revealed nothing of what he was thinking or feeling. He pulled up the sleeve of his flannel shirt, exposing a tattoo of a Greek helm on his forearm. "This is the mark of the Aries Curse."

"Oh." The earth plummeted from beneath Mary's feet. Understanding snuffed out the secret flame she'd nurtured in her breast—the stupidly optimistic hope that maybe a happy ending would prove possible for them. Ringing filled her ears and her awareness of her surroundings blurred.

Demetri's voice seemed to come from across a great distance, even though he was standing right in front of her. "I'm sorry, Mary. That's why I can't make any promises. I do care for you, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

With a tremendous effort, she gathered her tattered pride like armor, and turned to her innate pragmatism to carry her through. "If you stayed and we got involved, at the end of the year, you'd have to leave."

"Correct." Demetri scowled and stood there with his fists clenched at his sides, looking like he wanted nothing more than to bash something.

"Okay, I understand." Mary gave a cool nod. The evenness of her tone astonished her because, inside, she felt as though she was falling apart. Obviously, she'd been a fool to think they were falling in love if Demetri was incapable of even entertaining the notion that Mary might be the soulmate who could break his curse. The idea didn't seem to have even occurred to him.

"Mary—" Demetri reached for her but she took a quick step backward, evading his touch. Something—disappointment maybe?—shone briefly in his blue eyes, but he allowed his arm to fall.

"I'm sorry, Demetri, but I can't allow our affair to continue. I hope you understand and aren't angry. You're a wonderful lover and we haven't made any promises, but I know I'd fall in love with you eventually." Mary winced at the lie as it passed her lips.

God help her, she'd already lost her heart to him. The best she could hope for now was to get out with as much of her integrity and pride intact as possible. She reached behind her back and grabbed the front door knob, pushing it open behind her.

"I understand," Demetri said, as glum as a winter storm.

"Good night." She stepped inside and shoved the door shut without waiting for his reply.