Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
“Thanks, boss. She’s got great bloodlines.”
Hunter nodded, his focus entirely on the horse. He hadn’t noticed Eve yet, and she couldn't resist the urge to stare at him. Beautiful and powerful like always, just like his favorite stallion Midnight. But also terribly self-contained, which, come to think of it, was also just like Midnight.
Last night, he’d been passionate, almost desperate in his need for her. Today, he looked completely composed, as if nothing monumental had happened between them.
Matt glanced up and spotted her. His face lit up with a smile. “Morning, Eve!"
Hunter’s head snapped up, his silver eyes locking with hers. For a brief moment, something flashed in them before it was carefully shuttered away behind a mask of cool indifference.
Eve tried to act casual as she stepped forward, not wanting either man to figure out she had spent the last thirty seconds fantasizing about Hunter. "Morning."
She turned to Hunter, about to greet him as well, but he was already busy giving another set of instructions to Matt.
"Make sure those new bridles get delivered to the training arena. I want to try them this afternoon.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Matt headed toward the tack room, Eve found herself alone with Hunter, an awkward silence stretching between them.
“The, um, the ranch looks good,” she ventured.
“It’s profitable.” His reply was clipped, his attention still on the mare’s foreleg.
Eve fought back a surge of irritation. What game was he playing? Last night he couldn’t keep his hands off her, and today he could barely look at her?
“Well, I won’t keep you from your work,” she said, unable to keep a hint of frost from her voice. “Clearly you’re busy.”
That got his attention. He straightened, finally meeting her eyes. “There’s a lot to do around here, Evelline.”
“Of course. And I wouldn’t want to distract you.” She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.
“Have dinner with me tonight. In the main house.”
It wasn’t a request. Eve raised an eyebrow. “Is that an order, Mr. Ferguson?”
Something darkened in his gaze. “Seven o’clock.”
Without waiting for her response, he returned to examining the horse, effectively dismissing her.
Eve left the stables, frustration bubbling in her chest. The man was impossible! Hot one minute, cold the next. If this was what marriage to Hunter Ferguson would be like, she was in for a rocky year.
THROUGHOUT THE DAY, Eve kept busy exploring the ranch, reacquainting herself with its rhythms and routines. She visited the kitchen gardens, chatted with the housekeeping staff, and even spent some time in the ranch office, organizing files that had been neglected.
Occasionally, she’d spot Hunter in the distance, directing workers, inspecting fences, talking on his phone. Not once did he seek her out or acknowledge her presence.
By late afternoon, her irritation had hardened into resolve. If he wanted to pretend last night never happened, fine. Two could play that game.
When seven o’clock approached, Eve remained in her room, dressed in comfortable pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt. A soft knock came at her door.
“Evelline?” Cathy called. “Dinner is served.”
“Please tell Mr. Ferguson I have a migraine,” Eve replied, injecting just the right amount of regret into her voice. “I’ll be staying in my room tonight.”
There was a pause. “I’ll let him know.”
Eve smiled to herself as she heard Cathy’s retreating footsteps. She’d ordered a sandwich from the kitchen earlier, anticipating this moment. It sat on her bedside table now, along with a glass of lemonade and a novel she’d found in the ranch’s small library.
Downstairs, Hunter sat at the massive dining table, staring at Evelline's empty place setting.
“Ms. Ramirez says she has a migraine,” Cathy informed him, placing a bowl of soup in front of him. “She’ll be staying in her room tonight.”
Hunter nearly said “bullshit” but caught himself in time, knowing it would only displease Cathy and have him suffering burnt bacon for the rest of the week.
“I’ll talk to her,” he said grimly, dropping his napkin beside his untouched soup.
He reached Eve’s door in seconds, not bothering to knock before pushing it open. “Migraine, my ass—”
The words died in his throat as he took in the scene. Evelline sat cross-legged on her bed, calmly eating a sandwich while reading a book. She looked up at him, one eyebrow raised in perfect innocence.
“Can I help you with something, Hunter?”
“You’re supposed to be at dinner.” His voice came out harder than he’d intended.
Eve took another bite of her sandwich, chewing deliberately before answering. “Since you made it clear the entire day that you didn’t want to talk to me, I thought I’d save you the effort and spare you from my presence.”
Fuck.
He should’ve expected she’d confront him straight on like this, just like before. Evelline had never been one to play subtle games or drop passive-aggressive hints. She went straight for the jugular.
He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, okay?” he bit out.