A gentle smile spread across her face as if lit by an inner radiance, and he found himself mesmerized by the pronounced dimples adorning her cheeks. Her skin, smooth and porcelain, seemed so flawless that he imagined even the gentlest sunlight might too harshly kiss it. With assured grace, she walked toward him with her hand extended toward him.
“Mr. Harrison?” she inquired, her tone a blend of warmth and curiosity.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, taking her hand. As their grip met, his eyes were drawn irresistibly into the depths of her cobalt blue stare; a gaze that held both mystery and allure. In that moment, she was stunning beyond measure.
“I’m Ryan Carroll, a photographer with Western Living magazine,” she announced, her voice soft yet confident.
“You’re Ryan Carroll?” he repeated, a note of surprised intrigue in his tone.
She tilted her head, the movement accentuating the elegant curve of her neck, and a thought flickered through his mind so intensely that it nearly overwhelmed him; he wanted to know her in every possible way. “You were expecting a man, weren’t you?” she teased, her words dancing lightly in the air.
“With a name like Ryan, why would I think otherwise?” he responded, attempting light banter even as his pulse quickened.
“That’s a little chauvinistic, isn’t it, Mr. Harrison?” she countered playfully, her eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement.
“Not really,” he offered with a nonchalant shrug. “Ryan is usually associated as a man’s name.”
She grinned, her voice lilting as she remarked, “Well, some women do have male names. Surely, I’m not the first one you’ve met.” In that instant, Seth’s mind drifted briefly to memories of Dylan Reeves and Rory Richards, both exquisite women, each married to two of his closest friends, firmly reminding him that assumptions often missed the mark.
“No, you’re not,” he conceded with a small, rueful smile. “I apologize.”
“I accept,” she replied evenly. “I just wanted to stop in and introduce myself. I just arrived from Kalispell.”
“Ma’am—”
“Ryan.”
He exhaled sharply, a mix of exasperation and reluctant admiration coloring his tone. “Ryan. I hope you’re not planning to dress like that. You can’t trail anyone around in that getup.”
“Getup? I had a last-minute meeting this afternoon—
“On a Saturday?” Seth raised an eyebrow.
“Yes. The person who was assigned to this was unable to make it. I was at a wedding reception, Mr. Harrison, and hadless than twenty minutes to get to the airport for my flight. I didn’t have time to change,” she protested, a hint of indignation mingling with good humor. “I’ll wear appropriate clothes on Monday.”
“Make sure you do, Ms. Carroll. You will get dirty,” he said, gesturing to his dirty clothes. “You certainly wouldn’t navigate a pasture in those heels. You’ll need something more suited to the rugged outdoors, casual clothes, a T-shirt, jeans, and sturdy boots. A cowboy hat wouldn’t hurt either; with your fair skin, you really need protection from the sun.”
After a moment’s thought, she nodded. “Alright. I’ll see you Monday.”
“Fine,” he confirmed, his tone brisk. “Be here by eight.”
“Is that when you start work?” she asked, rubbing her arms at the chill.
“No, ma’am. We start at five, but since it’s still dark, it would be better for you to wait until later.”
“Five? As in, five in the morning?” she asked, a note of incredulity in her voice.
Suppressing a playful grin, he clarified, “Yes, ma’am.”
She exhaled a soft sigh, accepting his terms. “I’ll see you Monday morning, Mr. Harrison.”
“Just make sure you wear the proper clothing and be careful where you step,” he said again.
“I know how to walk in heels, Mr. Harrison,” she said and immediately stepped on the edge of a cow patty.
Seth did all he could not to laugh, but cleared his throat when she said, “You’d better not have a grin on your face, Mr. Harrison.” Without even looking at him.
“Yes, ma’am.” He knew she could hear the laughter in his voice. “I’ll see you then. You’ll need a jacket too. It’s still cool here in April.”
