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There he was, right in front of me in the flesh. He was no longer a boy but a man.
To my utmost dismay, the first thing that struck me was how the years had chiseled Max’s features.
The sun had kissed his skin into a deeper tan. His visage was more rugged, his eyes sharper. The faint lines around his eyes hinted at laughter. And those eyes, always as green as the fresh spring leaves, called to me.
Seeing Max was a punch to my gut. He stirred memories I had carefully boxed and stored away in my mind’s attic.
“Anna,” he murmured.
The syllables rolled off his tongue with a familiar ease that sent ripples of warmth through my veins.
I stepped back reflexively to shield myself from the shiver of anticipation my name on his lips brought.
Then I stopped, mentally chiding myself. This wasn’t a time to be swayed by a voice, no matter how deep and resonant it had become over the years. Max didn’t deserve that sort of reaction from me. Not after all he’d done.
Standing stiffly, I gave him a perusing glance. I took in the horse’s hooves and dark legs, its light brown coat, and shiny black mane.
At the same time, I noticed the cowboy boots. Leather. They were definitely good-quality leather. My eyes quickly took in his rugged jeans, long-sleeved shirt, and black hat.
I schooled my features into an expression of polite disinterest, forcing myself to ignore the way my heart skipped at the sight of his broad shoulders. The way his shirt stretched taut over well-defined muscles.
My eyes glanced at his face before settling a few inches above his shoulder. But they were too late.
My mind had already registered the teasing curve of his lips and the way his dark hair fell just so over his forehead. There were high cheekbones and a strong jawline I tried not to dwell on.
Max had grown into a man impossible to ignore. Avoiding looking at him proved futile since every sense was acutely attuned to his presence.
The faint scent of him wafted to me. It was earthy and tinged with the sweet smell of hay, overlaid by the subtle notes of a cologne. Involuntarily, I glanced back at his face.
He was wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. He squeezed the hankie, then slowly released his grip on it.
“Anna, years ago, I…” He trailed off.
My heart began to beat rapidly.
Feign ignorance,my mind shouted.That’s always the best route.
“I should have—”
“Move your cattle. I have places to be,” I retorted sharply.
“Anna?” he said my name again, squinting as if unsure.
“Yes, that’s my name,” I shot back, irritation making my tone clipped. “And you are?”
His jaws clenched, and I couldn’t help but revel in my small victory.
“I’m Max,” he said, voice dripping with annoyance.
“Nice to meet you, Max. Can we get down to business now?”
His brows furrowed slightly, a shadow of confusion crossing his eyes before being replaced by amusement. That flicker of humor irked me. I knew then that he could see through my pretense. When he spoke again, his voice was low, calm, measured.
“Anna, it’s been a long time.”
I refused to drown myself in the magnetic pull of that sound.
“Well, time is ticking. The road isn’t going to clear itself.”
