"Carrie. Carrie Anderson."
"It's nice to meet you, Carrie. My name's Tyson:' he said, as if holding a woman against him was his usual greeting, rather than a handshake. "Hungry?"
Something in her stomach flip-flopped, but not from a hunger for food. "Starved," she said. "Good." He grinned again, and it was all she could do not to lean her mouth into his. "Because the boss says he'll forgive you for trespassing if you have dinner with him."
Oh God, she was such an idiot. She'd been caught trespassing and the cowboy had been sent out to bring her in to have her hand slapped. Or have dinner. Whatever The point was, he didn't want to make mad, passionate love to her under a silvery moon. She'd read him all wrong. Could she do any more to embarrass herself?
Turning from flirt to prim stranger, she dropped her legs from his waist, unwound her hands from his neck, and put a good two feet between them. "I apologize for trespassing. I assure you it was an accident. I'll leave at once."
The cowboy shook his head and whistled. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone go from scared to friendly to downright frigid that quick before. Got any other tricks up your sleeve?"
Carrie felt her cheeks flame. She wished she could throw a bucket of ice water over the lusty beast that had emerged from within her. Trying to act normal, she said, "It's been a long day. I went for a walk and got lost. If you could point me back toward the Napa Valley Hotel, I'll get off of your boss's land. And if you could tell him it was an accident, I'd appreciate it."
He took a step closer, and everything in her wanted to leap back into his arms again. Leaning down so close that she felt his f breath on her earlobe, he said, "I don't think he'll like that much." ti Her heart raced another thousand beats per second how do you know that?" He looked down at his dirty clothes, then back up at her. "Ber' cause 1 am the boss. And 1 never take no for an answer."
THREE
CARRIE SAT ON THE LANTERN-LIT PORCH, a glass of cool Syrah at her lips. On their short walk to the house, she had learned that the cowboy was Tyson Green, founder of the very well respected Green Vineyards. While he made small talk, and she pretended to listen, she studied his features. And drooled. He was tall and lean, and his well-worn jeans outlined every delicious inch of his butt and muscular thighs. He wore a T-shirt that had seen better days, and Carrie admired the tendons on his arms, his large hands. Beneath the wide brim of his cowboy hat, his dark eyes flashed with humor and his prominent cheekbones caved to deep laugh lines. And his wide, full mouth made her heart race even faster than the thought of an impending mountain lion attack had.
Once they'd arrived at his lovely Craftsman-style ranch, Tyson had lent her his phone to call her friends. She'd left them messages letting them know that she was having a bit of a wine-country adventure but that she was perfectly okay and would tell them everything tomorrow morning at breakfast. She'd felt a twinge of guilt at bowing out of their evening plans, but she'd known they'd understand.
For the past ten minutes, while Tyson had been busy bringing things out from the kitchen to the grill, she had been trying to decide whether her motives for staying for dinner were purely innocent or completely carnal. Having wild sex within an hour of jumping on this big, gorgeous cowboy was a ridiculous, laughable thought. Or was it? Because she'd never met anyone as tempting as Tyson. She couldn't stop thinking of him naked above her, saying, "I never take no for an answer;' right before he slid into her, so thick and hot and ...
Tyson closed the lid on the grilling tri-tip, grabbed his glass of wine, and sat down next to her on the thick cushions of the outdoor sofa. More than a little nervous now that she'd nearly decided to take temptation up on its offer, Carrie fumbled for something witty, yet seductive, to say.
"I still can't believe that this vineyard is yours." Okay, so that was neither clever nor alluring. "I read an article about Green Vineyards in the Chronicle last weekend. They said you make the finest Syrah in California. I'd have to agree."
She tried to sound sexy but it was difficult to pull off while parroting newspaper headlines. Tyson looked far more pleased than aroused by her compliment. "The finest? 1 don't know about that. How about top five?"
Carrie grinned, forgetting for a moment that she was on a path of seduction. She liked that he was modest. But not too modest.
"But I'm glad you like it;' he said. "Very glad."
Wow. He should give lessons on seductive infusing. Because the way the words "very glad" poured from his lips made her wet. Very wet.
Her brain scrambled, along with her hormones, and she babbled on about the article. "Don't you use organic farming techniques"
"I don't care for pesticides;' he said, and it was clear he didn't '(want to talk about wine anymore. Maybe, she wondered wildly, he didn't want to talk at all anymore.
Feeling way out of her league-if only she were as brazen as Vanessa-she took another sip of the fruity Syrah' The smooth wine softened her fears enough to let her relax herself into the 1ft cushions. "But organic farming has got to drive your profit margins down Carrie mused while reformulating her approach at seduction.
Something in his face changed, hardened at her words. "Some. But enough wine talk. Tell me about you." Carrie took a huge gulp of wine. She couldn't exactly say, "Up until yesterday I thought I had landed the perfect man who would give me the perfect life, but when he proposed I freaked out and , yelled no at him. For some reason the ring's still in my pocket. Do you want to see it? It's really big. Oh, yeah, and even though I've never had a one-night stand, I'm really thinking that the two of us should give it a whirl because you're so incredibly hot I can't think straight."
"Not much to tell;' she eventually said. "I live in San Francisco. 1 own a landscape design business. And I'm up for the weekend with some girlfriends. We're going to do some wine tasting." There, that was all safe territory. She tried to think of something sexy to add to her incredibly dry self-portrait, but nothing came. She swallowed another huge mouthful of wine to cover the fact that she was at a complete loss for polite conversation.
She polished off her glass in record time, and Tyson obligingly refilled it, saying, "Got a boyfriend stashed away in the city?"
Carrie flushed. "No;' she said in a wimpy little voice.
He raised an eyebrow. "No?"
She shook her head. "Not me;' she said more emphatically. "Not you;' he repeated, almost as if he was laughing at her. "I'm single. Free. On the market."