He eyed her for long moments, his face a mask, his eyes unreadable. Then he pulled the door open. “You have five minutes.”

Chapter Seven

The cabin was magnificent. It wasn’t luxurious, but it was big, with exposed rafters and a huge rustic chandelier made from an old wagon wheel and suspended by chains from a large beam. It hung directly over the fat leather couches positioned in front of the massive stone fireplace, where huge chunks of wood glowed orange and the roaring flames spread tentacles of glorious warmth.

In front of the hearth and bordered on three sides by the couches was a big rug that looked Turkish in origin. More rugs decorated the acres of wide honey floorboards in the open-plan living areas, similar to her cottage. Against the far wall to her left sat a cabinet made from dark wood, and next to that was what looked like a fish tank. It was large and only half full of water, but she could see plants and a filter bubbling away, so she presumed something lived in it. A few feet from the tank, an archway opened into what appeared to be a hallway leading to, Suzanne presumed, the bedrooms.

The living space flowed into the kitchen area, which was separated by a long bench topped with black marble. Two large windows, although not floor-to-ceiling like hers, flanked the open kitchen area and looked out over the front porch and the field where Suzanne had first seen Grady’s horses grazing. A smaller window, situated above the sink, had a similar view.

Suzanne placed the bowl and the wine bottle down on the bench. “Wow,” she said as she craned her neck, her eyes taking another tour of the magnificent ceiling before lowering her gaze to his. “This is amazing.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “What did you expect?”

Not this. She hadn’t expected the cabin to be so…polished. Like a woman had designed, decorated, and regularly cleaned the space. She’d expected it to be more…male. More…Wild West saloon.

Minus the hookers.

Aware of his gaze on her, waiting for her to qualify, Suzanne said, “A lair.” Much to her surprise, one side of Grady’s mouth kicked up and, before she could think better of it, she said, “Careful there, Grady, you almost ruined all that grumpiness you’ve got going on.”

Suzanne regretted it immediately as he stiffened and folded his arms again. Way to go, Suzanne. Bring out the ogre just before you ask him to be your fake rancher boyfriend and go all National Lampoon on his home.

“All right, then,” he said, his voice gruff and businesslike. “Let’s hear it.”

She swallowed, nervous again. “Do you mind?” She pointed to the wine. Grady looked like he minded very much, but Suzanne needed some alcoholic fortification for what she was about to ask. “Trust me, we’re both going to need a glass after I get through what I need to say.”

“That bad, huh?”

“I don’t think you’re going to like it.” Suzanne sure as shit didn’t.