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“But the waters of the springs are so warm,” Isabella whispered, gazing at him with warm brown eyes. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you, Mr. Redford?”
Oh, she did tempt him. Almost beyond bearing. “Not today, Miss Cortez. Where is your horse? I didn’t see it by the spring.”
Truth be told, he hadn’t seen anything but her smooth skin and long dark hair. There could’ve been a jumbo jet tied to a Brontosaurus and he would’ve missed it completely.
“I didn’t ride a horse. I rode that.”
Bull followed her pointing finger. “You drove a four wheeler?”
“Yes, I have my driver’s license, Mr. Redford. I’m not a child.”
He ignored her proclamation. “Looks kinda dirty.”
“Yes, very dirty, indeed. One of the ranch hands wrecked it. Driving too fast. Too reckless. He was too young to know better. The men who work on this ranch are either too old or just boys. We don’t have any real men here, Mr. Redford. Not until now.” She looked right at him, unapologetically.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Isabella. We men never grow up. We just get bigger and buy more expensive toys. Like that four wheeler of yours. Do you ride it often?”
“Why, yes, I do. This is the one I always use. I’m sure Raul will avoid me for the next month.”
Bull knew he should go on. Standing here talking to her was dangerous. “It’s not exactly the color I imagined you to favor.”
“Is there a problem with blue?” She moved a little closer, hoping he’d look at her again.
“No, of course not. I just figured you for an everything-has-to-be-pink kinda girl.”
“Perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think, Mr. Redford.”
“True, and perhaps you don’t know as much about me as you think.”
“But I’d like to.”
“Oh, I can tell.” Bull sneered, disgusted with himself and frustrated with her.
Isabella stepped back as if she’d been slapped. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”
She placed her hands on her hips, a move she probably didn’t intend as seductive, but it sent a charge right into Bull’s manhood, regardless.
“Listen, Isabella...”
This was not the same man as her Benedict, not the same man at all. “It’s Ms. Cortez to you, Mr. Redford.”
Bull felt a surge of awareness. The kitty had claws. “Ms. Cortez,” he began again, “I think you have this romantic notion of American cowboys. You’ve seen one too many Clint Eastwood movies. I can assure you, I am not going to ride into town and clean up the riff-raff for you, or turn your ranch hands into men. I’m just an old, broken-down rodeo cowboy with a bad ankle and a spare tire. I’m just trying to make a living, sweetheart.”
“If you could see yourself through my eyes, you wouldn’t say that. And don’t ever call me sweetheart in such a condescending manner again. Good day!” Isabella whirled around and hurried down the hill. His rejection stung. All he saw when he looked at her was some silly, spoiled little girl with daydreams about American movie stars.
What should she do? La Diosa’s mask would eventually have to come off and when it did, there would be no one left but Isabella. As much as she wanted to recapture the magic she’d shared with Benedict earlier, she couldn’t meet him in disguise again. Hiding her true self from him hurt too much.
At the bottom of the hill, she turned to take one last glimpse. And what she saw made all the difference. He was staring after her with absolute longing on his face, the same yearning she saw on his face when he looked at Carmen.
For a long moment, she held his gaze. She didn’t know if he could read her thoughts, but if he could, Benedict Carson Redford would know that Isabella Cortez had no intention of giving up on him.
Time for plan B.
Bull was fit to be tied. Carmen hadn’t phoned him and she wasn’t answering his calls. He couldn’t concentrate on what Don Luis was saying for worrying about her. To make matters worse, Miss Isabella seemed to have made it her mission in life to seduce him. And God help, she was turning him every which way but loose. The bikini was gone, but tonight she wore some slinky red number that made her tits look like a million dollars. She even wore a pair of red stilettos that could’ve been twins of the shoe he carried in his suitcase. The rest of her didn’t look too bad either, her waist was tiny and her hips flared just right. The woman was a fuckin’ centerfold. Bull could feel his blood pressure spiking. If he didn’t die of a stroke before the night was over, it’d be a miracle.
“Let us talk a bit of business before dinner, Si?” Don Luis poured a liberal amount of Scotch into a glass and gave it to his guest. “Are you only interested in bulls or did you plan on purchasing some cows also?”
“I think for the time being, I’ll limit myself to bulls.” He took a sip of the smooth Scotch. “Unlike you, my funds are not unlimited, Don Luis.” He stared down into the smooth amber liquid, trying to ignore the prickle of awareness on the back of his neck. Isabella was watching him, he could feel her gaze.
