From the desk of Emerald Larson, owner and CEO of Emerald, Inc.

      To: My personal assistant, Luther Freemont

      Re: My grandson Nick Daniels

      My grandson, Nick, will be leaving at the end of the week to take over running the Sugar Creek Cattle Company in Wyoming. Please be advised that he won’t be particularly happy when he discovers that his ranch foreman is the woman he was to have married thirteen years ago. To ensure the success of my plan and to avoid the fallout of his displeasure, I am instructing you to intercept all calls from him until further notice.

      As always I am relying on your complete discretion in this matter.

      Emerald Larson

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Epilogue

      One

      “Drop that roll of wire and back away from your truck.”

      Nick Daniels took a deep breath and tried to ignore the jolt of awareness that shot from the top of his head all the way to his feet. It had been thirteen long years since he’d heard that soft, feminine voice. But if he lived to be a hundred, he knew he’d recognize it anywhere, anytime. The melodic sound had haunted his dreams and left his body aching with unfathomable need too many nights for him to ever forget.

      “I told you to put that down and step away from the truck.”

      At the sound of a shotgun being pumped, Nick slowly lowered the coil of barbed wire to the tailgate of his new truck and raised his gloved hands to show he was complying with her command. Then, turning to face the reason he’d left Wyoming one step ahead of the law, he smiled sardonically. “It’s been a long time, Cheyenne.”

      The widening of her eyes and the slight wavering of the double-barrel shotgun she pointed at him were the only indications that she was the least bit surprised to see him after all this time. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing out here, Nick Daniels, but I’d advise you to get in your truck and go back to wherever you came from. Otherwise, I’ll call the law.”

      He took a deep breath as he stared at her. Damned if she wasn’t more beautiful now than she’d been at sixteen. Her long brown hair, streaked with golden highlights, complemented the healthy glow of her sun-kissed skin and her aqua-green eyes to perfection.

      His gaze drifted lower. Her pink tank top caressed her torso, fascinating the hell out of him and giving him more than a fair idea about the size and shape of her breasts. He swallowed hard as his gaze drifted even lower. She’d always been a knockout in a pair of jeans, but the well-worn denim hugged her hips and thighs like a second skin and emphasized how long and shapely her legs were.

      He diverted his gaze back to the gun in her hands. He’d do well to forget how good she looked after all this time and concentrate on the fact that she was ready to blow his ass to kingdom come.

      “Go ahead and call the sheriff. Last time I heard, it wasn’t against the law for a man to mend a fence on his own property.”

      “It’s not your land. It belongs to the Sugar Creek Cattle Company. And you’re trespassing.”

      He shook his head as he took a step toward her. “No, I’m not.”

      “I swear I’ll shoot you if you don’t stop right there, Nick.”

      “That wouldn’t be very neighborly of you, sweetheart.”

      “Don’t call me that.” She released the safety on the shotgun when he moved forward.

      From the sharp edge he’d heard in her voice, he knew he’d hit a nerve. He inched a little closer. “You used to like when I called you sweetheart.”

      She shook her head. “That’s past history. Now, get in your truck and disappear like you did thirteen years ago.”

      “Why would I want to do that? This is my home.” With the gun barrel still pointed at the middle of his chest, he wisely chose not to point out that her father had been behind his disappearing act back then, or that he was damned tired of a Holbrook trying to run him off his own land. “If you’ll remember, the Sugar Creek ranch has been in my family for over a hundred and twenty-five years.”

      “If you’ll remember, you gave up the right to this land a long time ago.” Was that bitterness he detected in her voice?

      “That’s where you’re wrong, Cheyenne.” Easing forward a bit more, he was almost close enough to reach the shotgun. “I still own this place, lock, stock…” He lunged forward and, grabbing the shotgun, shoved it away with one hand at the same time he reached out to wrap his arm around her waist. “…and barrel,” he finished, pulling her to him.

      “Turn me loose.” She pushed at his chest as she tried to wiggle from his grasp.

      “Not until we get a few things straight.” The feel of her soft body squirming against his was heaven and hell rolled into one shapely little five-foot-two-inch package. He did his best to ignore it. “When you point a gun at a man, you’d better be prepared to use it, sweetheart.”

      “I was.” She sounded breathless and if he didn’t know better, he’d swear he felt a slight tremor pass through her.

      Shaking his head as much in answer to her statement as in an attempt to clear his mind, he whispered close to her ear, “You and I both know you could never shoot me, Cheyenne.”

      “Let me have my gun back…and I’ll show you.” There was no doubt that she shivered against him this time.

      He couldn’t resist teasing the side of her neck with his lips. “Not until you calm down.”

      Her labored breathing quickly reminded him