‘I don’t understand ... ?’
‘Are you up to a ride in—what did you call it?—in my “old Jeep”?’
She flushed. ‘In the Bronco?’
‘I promise,’ he said with an engaging grin, ‘this time I won’t aim for every pothole.’
Arden couldn’t help laughing. “So, you admit it.’
Conor laughed, too, but then his smile faded and his eyes turned dark and smoky.
‘Well?’ he said softly. ‘What do you say? Will you come with me, querida?’
Her heartbeat quickened and a danger signal began to flash into her brain, but nothing could stop him from the answer she gave him.
‘Yes,’ ‘Arden whispered. ‘I will.’
The finca was enormous, she had known that. Felix had told her it stretched in all directions for thousands and thousands of acres, but seeing all that land, driving through it, made the size of it real in a way numbers scratched on paper never could.
Conor tucked her into the Bronco as carefully as if she were made of glass, loaded a picnic hamper into the rear, then drove them first to the top of a ridge where they sat looking over a field of wild flowers, drinking a Thermos of dark, sweet coffee and munching on fresh cinnamon rolls.
‘I want to show you the rest of the finca,’ Conor said, after they’d got back into the car, ‘but first, if you’re up to it, I thought I’d take you to the most beautiful place I know.’
Arden smiled. ‘Prettier than the lake?’
‘Yes.’
She lay her head back and sighed. ‘Then it has a lot to live up to, Conor, I’m warning you:
He grinned. ‘Is that a yes?’
‘Uh huh.’
He turned the key and the Bronco lurched forward. ‘Just promise you’ll tell me if I’m driving too fast. Or if your head hurts. Or—’
‘Conor, honestly, I’m fine.’
‘You’re sure?’
She smiled at him. ‘Positive.’
And she was, she thought as they drove along a narrow dirt road that wound into the hills; she was finer than she had ever been before.
Her gaze flew to the man beside her. It was wrong, that she should feel so happy to be with him. Conor was the enemy—although it was getting harder and harder to remember that. Where was the river of anger that had flowed between them the past weeks? Had such a simple thing as a runaway horse, a blow to the head, turned it back—or had there been something other than anger driving her all along? Had despising Conor been safer than—than—?
‘Why so quiet?’
Arden blinked. Conor was looking at her, a questioning smile on his face.
‘I—I was just-just thinking how lovely El Corazon is.’ She bit her lip. ‘And—and how big it is...’
She broke off, wishing she could call back the words; certain Conor would interpret them to mean she was weighing and measuring the monetary worth of the ranch that had been willed her, but he only smiled.
‘Bigger than you realise, querida. And what we’re about to see is the most beautiful part of it.’ He shut off the engine and the silence of the forest enfolded them. ‘Are you up to a five-minute walk?’ Arden nodded, and Conor stepped from the Bronco, came around to her side, and lifted her gently down. He took her hand and led her along a narrow path that wound into a dense stand of magnificent trees.
‘What is this place?’ she asked softly.
Conor smiled. ‘The cloud forest.’