One

      April always knew her luck would run out one day.

      In a town the size of Boone Springs, she couldn’t avoid River “Risk” Boone forever.

      But she hadn’t expected to see the tall, handsome Texan walk into her real estate agency that morning.

      Her stomach in knots, she gazed at him from across her desk. He tipped his hat back, his eyes a mesmerizing dark brown, his skin still as bronzed as it had been in his rodeo days. Wearing crisp jeans and a tan button-down shirt, his business casual attire and good looks turned heads in the Texas town founded by his ancestors. He’d turned her head once, too, and that had been a big mistake.

      “Hello, April.”

      The deep timbre of his voice, the way he drawled her name, gentle and sure, rang in her ears. On wobbly legs she rose from her desk. “Risk, w-what are you doing here?”

      His brows arched as he looked her over from head to toe, a gleam in his eyes as if he was remembering the night they’d shared. Heat rose up her throat, and she was stunned Risk still had the ability to jumble her thoughts.

      Clovie, her assistant and good friend, gave her a quizzical look from the desk adjacent to hers. Clovie knew something about her past history with him.

      “I’m here on Boone business. I understand you’ve spoken with my brother Mason’s secretary about the Canyon Lake property.”

      “Yes, that’s correct. I answered some of her questions about the lodge. But that’s as far as it went. I, uh, do we have an appointment?”

      She knew darn well they didn’t. And she also knew darn well she wasn’t going to turn him away on some false premise that he needed to make one. She didn’t know why she’d asked that question, other than a bad case of nerves. It’s not as if she could ignore a member of the Boone family. The three Boone brothers were wealthy cattle ranchers and entrepreneurs. They owned much of the town.

      “Never mind,” she said. “If you have questions about Canyon Lake Lodge, I can help you.”

      He gave her a nod. “Apparently you did a great job talking up the lodge, because we’re definitely interested in finding out more about—” Risk stopped speaking. Oh God, he’d noticed the pain in her eyes, the frown she couldn’t conceal.

      Two years ago, they’d spent one night together. She hadn’t expected diamonds and flowers afterward, but she had expected him to be there when she woke up in the morning.

      “Listen, is there someplace we can talk privately?” Risk asked after a long pause.

      Clovie piped up instantly. “I’ve got the bank deposit ready, April. I was just leaving.” She stood, gathering up a folder and hoisting her handbag over her shoulder. “I’ll stop for lunch and see you in an hour or so.”

      “Okay.”

      Clovie dashed out quickly as both watched her leave and shut the door behind her.

      “Ask and ye shall receive.” April’s sardonic tone shifted Risk’s attention back to her. She was at a complete loss. Seeing him stirred up deep feelings of hurt and abandonment again. Mostly she hated that Risk Boone, the ex-rodeo champion, had treated her like one of his buckle bunnies when she’d believed they’d really connected that night in Houston. Though he’d once been her secret high school crush, the fantasy-come-true night they’d shared two years ago had turned into a bad memory.

      “April, look, I’m here because you have the listing for Canyon Lake Lodge. I’m the new head of real estate acquisitions for Boone Inc. My brothers want to expand the business and like the idea of opening a lodge. I didn’t make an appointment because I wasn’t sure you’d see me. I owe you an apology.”

      “You were afraid I wouldn’t want to see you?”

      “Judging by the sound of your voice, I’m not far from the mark, am I?”

      “Your apology is a little late in coming, wouldn’t you say?” She folded her arms across her middle, not in a show of attitude but to help brace herself. “That was quite some time ago.”

      “I’ve been working out of town a lot these past few years. It’s not an excuse, but simply the truth.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Listen, I was in a bad place back then. I couldn’t stay. Shannon really messed me up and, well, I wasn’t ready for...you. I couldn’t give anything back. I guess—no, I know—I ran scared. And I’m sorry.”

       I wasn’t ready for...you.

      Oh God, what a silly fool she’d been thinking that talking openly and sharing confidences and making love throughout the night would mean something, when all she’d been to him was a one-night stand.

      She’d known about his two-year relationship with superstar actress Shannon Wilkes—the tabloids had made sure the entire country was well versed in the details of their relationship and scandalous breakup. Risk had been a rodeo celebrity at the top of his bronc-busting game, and Shannon had won a Golden Globe. They’d been paired as a super couple, until Risk took a bad fall from a bronc, injuring his shoulder and ending his rodeo career. Shortly after, Shannon broke up with him and immediately got involved with a top NFL quarterback, breaking Risk’s heart and humiliating him in front of the entire country—the life he’d known all but gone. “Twice Dumped” had been the headline, showing side-by-side photos of him grounded by the stallion and an unflattering pose of him and Shannon.

      If only April hadn’t seen a recovering Risk guest hosting the Houston rodeo that day. If only she hadn’t bumped into him later at the hotel bar. If only he hadn’t been so vulnerable and open and kind to her that night, good sense might have prevailed. But they’d really connected that night, and his lovemaking led her to think impossible things.

      But never in her wildest expectations had she thought he’d walk out on her the next morning without so much as an explanation, a note, a goodbye. It cheapened what might have been the best night of her life.

      “Okay, I get it.”

      Risk exhaled, seeming relieved. “You accept my apology?”

      If he’d come exclusively to apologize, it surely would’ve meant more. “Risk, why don’t we just drop it and keep our personal lives out of this. Have a seat and we’ll get down to the real reason you’re here.” She couldn’t help the jab; he deserved it, and judging by the frown on his face, it hit the mark.

      “Fine.”

      They both sat down, and she pulled the file for the listing. She had one month left on her contract with the owner, Mr. Hall, and selling the $5.3 million lodge would put her struggling agency in the black well into next year.

      “Let’s focus on the potential of the property,” she said.

      He nodded, and his gaze roamed over the office, leisurely taking it all in. “But first let me say I like what you’ve done here. The place never looked this good when it was ole Perry Bueller’s shop.”

      “Mr.