Page 39 of Bryson

Ignoring him, Bryson called out to the stable hand. "Loosen his reins a little. That's it. He needs to know who's in control. Not so fast. Take him through his paces."

"McNab."

"Lewis," Bryson murmured in a scrupulously polite tone without glancing at him. He issued more instructions to the man handling the horse.

"Julianne suggested I take a spin around the property."

"There are horses in the stable. Pick one. Just don't get lost. We're too busy today to search for you."

Brian grinned, not in the least bit offended by the scathing remark. "As much as I want to take you up on that, I don't ride."

Bryson turned his head to give the man a look of surprise. "Why the hell not?"

Brian shrugged, sliding his hands into the pockets of his elegant slacks. He was not dressed for the rough outdoors, but he refused to lower himself into wearing denims, which seemed to be the preferred uniform of the various cowboys he had seen since he left the ranch house. That included the decidedly sexy and magnificent specimen standing next to him with one booted foot propped up on the railing.

"Never had the desire to climb on one of those magnificent creatures. I have a plane, a yacht, several cars, but horses are not my thing."

"You're missing out."

"Says the typical cowboy. How about a nice four-wheel-drive jeep? Julianne said you would take me."

"Julianne is mistaken. I have work to do and really don't have the time to play tour guide."

"I'm sure she would love to hear that her darling man refused to entertain her best friend," Brian murmured, turning to watch the horse buck and paw the air. "He seems upset and ready to bolt."

Hissing out a curse, Bryson turned towards the stable hand. "Put him through his paces again and cool him off. Let's go," he snapped at Brian. Without waiting to see if the man was following, he strode towards the garage.

"My God." Brian breathed the sharp, sweet air filling his nostrils. "It's spectacular. How does it feel to own all of this?"

"It's a hell of a lot of work." Bryson was still steaming that the man had used Julianne to manipulate him.

"I'm sure it is." Brian tore his eyes off the rolling green hills, the cattle dotting the horizon and the sight of the men out and about doing various activities. And it was not just men; he had spotted several women picking fruits or hanging out linens. Leaning back in the passenger seat, he stretched his long legs out and relished the breeze sliding through his blond hair. "You're pissed that you have to be doing this."

"What gave it away?"

Brian chuckled. "She has a hold on you."

"What?"

"Julianne. You love her to pieces and bits."

"I don't know what the bloody hell that means. We're approaching the slaughterhouse. Want to take a look?"

Brian shuddered delicately. "Not even if I was held at gunpoint. I keep forgetting that you supply beef to the public. So, those nice and amiable-looking bovines will soon be on people's plates. Thank God, I've decided to do away with beef."

"What about chicken?" Bryson asked with a snicker. "Because we have several coops for the specific purpose of gracing people's dinner plates."

Brian turned his head to give him a dirty look. "You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?"

"Immensely. I was reluctant to do this at first, but now I'm the one being entertained."

"I'm happy to be the butt of your very sick mind. It's cold."

"You should have had the good sense to put on something other than a flimsy expensive jacket," Bryson told him in an insensitive tone. "And check the bloody weather."

"It would help if you put the windows up."

"You're allowed to put yours up. Me? I love this kind of weather. Had enough?"