‘How hard did you work for that money Lithgow sent to your hotel room?’
‘God, but you’re all so damned predictable!’
She swung away, but Conor reached out and caught her wrist.
‘It’s not a tough question, Arden. Surely, you can answer it. How hard did you work for—’
‘That was my severance pay!’ She swiveled towards him, her eyes blazing. ‘Lithgow left town before he authorised the office to give it to me. That was why I had to come to work here, for Felix. When I went back to confront him, he promised to make good on what he owed me.’
‘And so he sent you an envelope filled with cash.’ Conor’s mouth twisted. ‘Come on, sweetheart, you can come up with a better story than that!’
‘It’s the truth, dammit! I was angry because my cheque hadn’t come in. I guess he decided to lay out the money himself and...’ Arden puffed out her breath. ‘I don’t owe you any explanations, Conor!’
They stood staring at each other, both of them breathing heavily, and then Conor nodded.
‘You’re right,’ he said slowly. His fingers flexed; his hand fell away from her wrist. There was a silence, and then he cleared his throat. ‘I was telling you about the horses,’ he said. ‘We have eight stallions, two dozen mares, six foals, and eight geldings.’ He reached out and rubbed the ear of the horse in the last stall and the animal nickered softly in response. ‘Although we may be adding to that number, unfortunately. One of the stallions has been a problem lately, and—’
‘And you’d geld him, just for that?’
‘It’s not pleasant, but we may have no choice. Diablo is half crazy with the scent of one of the mares. All he can think about is covering her. He’s become a danger to himself and to others.’
Arden swallowed hard. ‘Can’t you—can’t you solve the problem by letting him... by letting him...’
What was the matter with her? They were discussing horses, not people, and she’d spent enough time around horses to know that people who bred them discussed the sex lives of the animals as if they were discussing the propagation of cabbages.
But there was something dark and deep in Conor’s words, just as there was in the way he was looking at her and in the way she was beginning to find it hard to breathe.
‘By letting him take her?’ he said. Arden nodded. ‘I’ve tried that,’ be said, very softly. ‘But she won’t accept him. He’s too wild and untamed. Soon, he’ll be dangerous. The passion that drives him makes him unfit for anything else.’
‘Well, then,’ she said carefully, ‘whatever you think has to be done...’
Conor looked at her for a long minute and then he laughed.
‘I half expected you to tell me what you thought needs to be done. I mean, now that you think you’ve a claim on the ranch—’
‘Think? I don’t “think”, Conor, I know! I have a claim on the ranch.’
‘Which is why you came strolling down to the stables to check things out first hand.’
‘I told you, I came to saddle a horse and go riding.’
‘Ah.’ He shifted lazily and tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. ‘You thought you’d kill two birds with one stone, make an inventory of the stock we own, and see the finca close up, all at the same time.’
Arden’s brows lifted. ‘We don’t own anything.’
‘I was trying to be polite. But you’re right: it’s better to be honest.’ His smile tightened. ‘I own it all.’
‘Keep on dreaming, if it makes you happy.’
‘You’re in for one hell of a disappointment, sweetheart. El Corazon will never belong to anyone but me.’
‘According to your uncle’s will—’
‘I’d advise you to remember that nothing will change on this finca while the will is in probate. For the past five years, I’ve made all the decisions here.’
‘Yes, I’ll just bet you have!’
‘Is there some deep meaning in that remark?’