Perfect Tales of the Were - Bianca D'Arc Page 0,1

the Wild West—or at least its modern equivalent. That dream had become reality when she sold her bakery business. With the windfall, she’d moved out West and bought a big ranch in the middle-of-nowhere, Texas, finding local people to run it for her while she fixed up the house.

A career woman, she’d never married, concentrating instead on building her business from the ground up. She had a few regrets, but overall, she was happy with the way things had turned out…except when she got a look at some of the young studs wandering around her property, taking care of the animals and lands.

The new hand was a perfect example. Cody had chiseled features that put Cary Grant to shame. He was the epitome of the strong, silent type, doing his work each day in his calm way, while she watched from the kitchen window. Salivating. Especially when he took off his shirt. Which wasn’t often enough in her opinion.

Today, he was fixing some of the fencing in an effort to bring the old farm up to snuff. The foreman, Rich, and his wife, Emma, were more than employees. Cassandra was happy to let Rich not only run her ranch, but also a small horse training business, out of her extensive barns. Rich had hired Cody about a week ago, and the men were turning the old barns back into the showplace they had once been. Which meant Cody and the other hands did their share of the cowboying, and odd jobs, as well. Rich had told her that Cody had a way with horses, and that, as soon as they had the barns in good enough shape, he’d be using Cody’s skills more as a trainer than an odd jobs man.

Cassandra didn’t have much personal experience with horses, but Cody sure looked good on one. He was an excellent rider and watching him made her think of an altogether different kind of ride she’d like to take him on.

Just the thought of it made her blush. Cody had starred in her late-night fantasies since she’d first seen him, though they hadn’t interacted much, except as part of the larger group of ranch hands. Cassandra would have dinner with the group a few times a week and only on two memorable occasions had Cody ended up sitting next to her at the big dining table. Only rarely had she gotten to see that sexy, slow smile close up, and it never failed to stop her heart for a beat in genuine feminine appreciation.

Cassandra was getting used to this quieter life, though it was an adjustment. She’d been born in the suburbs and had made a splash in New York City with her bakery. The single bakery had turned into a chain, and then, the investors had rolled in, wanting to take it national. She’d enjoyed the challenge of building the business, but a national brand was beyond her. She was a baker at heart, and that had always been the best part of the business for her—getting in there and creating new recipes. The business part had been a necessary evil, and she’d been just as happy to turn it over to someone else to manage.

She still loved baking. She had a full-time cook now, of course, who served meals for the hands, but Cassandra’d had a professional kitchen installed in the big house for her own use. When she’d sold her business, it was part of the deal that she’d stay on as an advisor and inventor of new products. That was the part she loved best anyway, and she could do it in the privacy of her own home and still get paid handsomely.

Plus, she had a built-in group of taste testers in the small community of people who lived and worked on her ranch. The men loved sweets and never failed to give her an honest opinion of which of her test batches they liked best.

The oven timer buzzed, alerting her to the delicious possibilities awaiting her. She’d soon have a new platter of edibles to test on the hands, and no time like the present, when Cody Tyler, the bronzed god, was out there, gleaming in the sun. Her mouth watered, and it had little to do with the delectable aroma coming from the oven. Cassandra took the new pastries out, let them cool a bit, then arranged them on a tray and headed outside.

“Ma’am.” Cody shrugged into his shirt, much to Cassandra’s disappointment, as he approached.