Good thing he’d checked the house’s extensive property, or he might not have found her.

The historic barn was only about sixty feet from the main house and featured three horse stalls, food storage areas, tack room, carriage storage room, hay room and small living quarters upstairs. That last bit of information had tipped Ethan off when Mary hadn’t come downstairs after a shower and change.

Ethan scowled at her. “You’re the most stubborn person I have ever met.”

Wearing a white terry cloth robe that showed absolutely nothing except for her feet and about an inch of neck, Mary stood at the barn door, blocking his entrance. “Thank you.”

“That agent told you about this place, didn’t he?”

“His name is Harold.”

“Yeah, well, Harold clearly isn’t looking for a good word from me to his boss.”

“Don’t take it out on Harold,” Mary said, trying to force her hair into some type of halo style on top of her head with a couple of pins. She looked like a damn angel and Ethan had an intense urge to be saved.

“Are you going to show me around?” Ethan asked wryly.

Defiance glimmered in her pale-blue eyes, but she took a step back and allowed him to pass. “Do you promise to be good?”

“Are you kidding? Don’t you know me at all?”

She laughed, a soft, throaty sound that made him think of the nights they’d shared, the sound that would erupt from her throat every time she climaxed. Blood thrummed in his temples as he followed her past the neat tack room and unused stalls, up the short set of stairs to the loft. There he took one look around and sniffed derisively. “This place is microscopic and-”

“And perfect for one person,” Mary finished for him.

The walk upstairs had caused the ties on her robe to loosen, and the lapels were gaping slightly-just enough for him to see a curve of one pale breast. His mouth watered, and he tore his gaze away and glared at the bed. Warm light infused the room, kissing the pale-blue coverlet. It was a soft space, and he felt way too hard to belong there.

“I think it’s the best of both worlds,” Mary said, mis-taking his tense jaw and piercing gaze for annoyance instead of desire. “Seeing how we feel about each other.”

How they felt about each other. The idea made Ethan want to laugh. One minute he wanted to shake her, and the next he wanted to kiss her. What he did know was that he didn’t want to hate her-not anymore-didn’t want to feel pissed off at her. “I don’t like this.”

She sighed. “We’re close enough to work and far enough not to…”

“Not to what?” he asked, wondering how long it would take him to remove that robe. Two seconds? Five? Or maybe he’d want to do it slowly, just a shoulder first. Or maybe he’s start at her feet, work his way up to her calves, thighs…“Fall into bed again?”

Pink suddenly stained her cheeks, and she moistened her bottom lip with her tongue. “Something like that.”

“It seems like a whole lot of trouble for nothing.”

Her chin lifted. “I seem to remember you comparing me to a python. Aren’t you glad that the python isn’t living upstairs?”

He didn’t answer. He walked over to the window and stared out. “There’s no view of the water from here.”

She sniffed. “I think I’ll live.”

“You’ll be up here day and night…alone.”

“Why do you care, Curtis?”

“I don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. He didn’t want to.

“Business won’t suffer,” she assured him. “I can be up at the house in under five minutes.”

If he didn’t get the hell out of here right now, he was going to find out the answer to that robe question of his, and then Mary Kelley would have the upper hand on him and he couldn’t have that. He turned away from the window and stalked across the tiny space. “Thirty will be fine.”

She studied him, her brows slightly knitted. “What’s the plan for the rest of the day?”

“We have a few hours of good light left. Maybe…scouting a location for the party?”

She looked surprised. “I would’ve thought you’d want it at the house.”

“I’m not sure what I want,” he said tightly. “I’d like some options.”

Her expression now impenetrable, she nodded. “All right. Well, I’m finally going to take that shower I’ve been looking forward to since this morning, and I’ll meet you out front in thirty minutes.”

The thought of Mary naked under a waterfall of hot water had Ethan sucking in oxygen, but not enough: his lungs constricted with pain. She was going to take off that robe, not him. She was going to touch her skin, not him. Women could be masters at torture, but this woman had it down to a science. His gaze shot to the small bathroom to his right. So white and clean and sweet.

His entire body charged with electricity, Ethan turned away and headed back down the stairs.

“We could always walk into town,” Mary suggested as she sat in the back of a small black buggy, outside the gates of their rental house.

Glaring at the docile horse, Ethan slowly shook his head. “Nope.”

The carriage driver looked straight ahead, smart enough not to get involved, but Mary wasn’t afraid to incur the wrath of Ethan Curtis. The late-afternoon sun was starting to mellow into a stunning orangish pink and if they didn’t get a move on they’d be scouting locations for the party in the dark.

“Are you going to climb up here or not?” Mary asked as she watched Ethan sidle up to the chestnut mare.

“Just give me a minute,” he uttered crossly, reaching out to stroke the animal’s mane as he whispered something to her Mary couldn’t hear.

When he finally climbed into the buggy and dropped down beside Mary, she was curious as hell. “So, what’s up with you and Shirley?”

“It was personal.”

The driver clicked his tongue a few times and they were off down the dirt road. “Did you ask for her hand in marriage?” Mary asked, grinning. “Oops, sorry, I mean her hoof?”

“We were just having a little discussion, that’s all.”

“About?”

“Manners.”

Mary laughed. “Did you have a drink before we left the house?”

Ethan crossed his arms over his chest and reclined back in his seat. “I don’t want her throwing us, that’s all.”

“The driver said she’s as docile as they come.”

“That’s what they’d like you to believe,” he muttered dryly.

“They?”

“The driver and…Shirley.”

Again she laughed. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“I’m not all that into horses, okay?”

“Oh, c’mon. Everyone loves horses. How could you not like horses? It’s un-American.”

“Okay, they don’t like me,” he grumbled.

“You need therapy,” she said as they passed another horse and buggy on their way to town. The air had chilled considerably since their arrival, and Mary scooted just a little closer to Ethan. “All right, I’m listening. Tell me the whole sad story.”

“What story?”

“Give me a break.” She inched even closer to him so their legs were touching. “You’ve got to be freaked out for a reason-what’s the story?”

On a curse, Ethan lifted his arm, dropped it around her shoulders. “I was ten. It was Sammy Bishop’s birthday party and this sweet and supposedly ancient horse named Izabo was there giving rides to all the kids. With everyone else, she walked slower than a turtle, it was almost funny, the parents were actually referring to her Iza Slow. But as soon as I got on her back it was Kentucky Derby time.” He lifted up his left forearm. “I fell and broke my arm in three places.”

Mary let her head relax against his arm, knowing full well how totally inappropriate they were both being. “That was a fluke thing and it happened one time. You can’t hold that against-”

“Then when I was fourteen,” he said as the buggy took a deep hole and they bumped against each other. “My girlfriend dragged me to the circus. Everything was fine until the horse and rider came out. Jezebel the Great freaked out halfway through her routine and stormed the stands.”

“No way.”

“Oh, yeah. And who do you think she headed straight for?”

“Okay, I’m beginning to see a pattern,” Mary said, laughing, the scent of lake water heavy in the air.

“I broke two ribs.”

Without thinking, Mary reached over and ran her fingers down the length of his rib cage only stopping when she heard his sharp intake of breath. “Feel fine to me.”

His heavy-lidded gaze held hers. “Well sure, they’ve healed now.”

It was a good thing that the driver stopped then, or Mary believed Ethan might’ve leaned in and kissed her, and she also believed she would have kissed him back. They got out in front of a fudge shop and started walking up Main Street, which had a similar architectural feel to New Orleans, though the scents in the air were totally different. As they passed shops, restaurants and art galleries, Mary missed Ethan’s arm around her, the strength of him, and she silently wished he’d take her hand, lace her fingers with his.

“You know what?” she said as they walked to the west end of downtown where the pedestrians were fewer. “I don’t think it’s really about the horses not liking you.”

“Oh, this should be interesting.”

“I think it’s a sex thing.”

A dark brow lifted over one eye. “Come again?”

“Izabo, Jezebel and Shirley,” she pointed out. “It’s a female thing. Females have this reaction to you.”

Ethan processed this for a brief moment, then burst out laughing. “How the hell did I get mixed up with you?”

She tossed him a taunting smirk. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

They continued down the street, passing a lovely old church, a library and a quaint soda shop-which Mary considered for the party, then quickly deemed too informal. Several blocks down, closer to the water, Ethan pointed to a lovely, small, intimate hotel called the Miran Inn. “What do you think of this place?”