She swallowed. He had her hypnotized, like a cobra with a rabbit. Those eyes…those very dark, unyielding eyes…!

“It’s not your business, is it?” she asked finally, furious at her lack of cohesive thought and this man’s assumption that he had the right to interrogate her.

He didn’t say a word. Instead, he just looked at her.

“Please,” she bit off, hunching her shoulders uncomfortably. “You’re making me nervous!”

“You came to meet the boss, didn’t you?” he asked in a velvety smooth tone. “Didn’t anyone tell you that he’s no marshmallow?”

She swallowed. “They say he’s a very nice, pleasant man,” she returned a little belligerently. “Something I’ll bet nobody in his right mind would dream of saying about you!” she added with her first burst of spirit in years.

His eyebrows lifted. “How do you know I’m not nice and pleasant?” he asked, chuckling suddenly.

“You’re like a cobra,” she said uneasily.

He studied her for a few seconds before he nudged his horse in the side with a huge dusty boot and eased so close to her that she actually shivered. He hadn’t been impressed with the young woman who stammered and stuttered with nerves, but a spirited woman was a totally new proposition. He liked a woman who wasn’t intimidated by his bad mood.

His hand went across her hip to catch the back of her saddle and he looked into her eyes from an unnervingly close distance. “If I’m a cobra, then what does that make you, cupcake?” he drawled with deliberate sensuality, so close that she caught the faint smoky scent of his breath, the hint of spicy cologne that clung to his lean, tanned face. “A soft, furry little bunny?”

She was so shaken by the proximity of him that she tried desperately to get away, pulling so hard on the reins that her mount unexpectedly reared and she went down on the ground, hard, hitting her injured left hip and her shoulder as she fell into the thick grass.

A shocked sound came from the man, who vaulted out of the saddle and was beside her as she tried to sit up. He reached for her a little roughly, shaken by her panic. Women didn’t usually try to back away from him; especially ordinary ones like this. She fell far short of his usual companions.

She fought his hands, her eyes huge and overly bright, panic in the very air around her. “No…!” she cried out helplessly.

He froze in place, withdrawing his lean hand from her arm, and stared at her with scowling curiosity.

“Leslie!” came a shout from a few yards away. Ed bounced up as quickly as he could manage it without being unseated. He fumbled his way off the horse and knelt beside her, holding out his arm so that she could catch it and pull herself up.

“I’m sorry,” she said, refusing to look at the man who was responsible for her tumble. “I jerked the reins. I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you all right?” Ed asked, concerned.

She nodded. “Sure.” But she was shaking, and both men could see it.

Ed glanced over her head at the taller, darker, leaner man who stood with his horse’s reins in his hand, staring at the girl.

“Uh, have you two introduced yourselves?” he asked awkwardly.

Matt was torn by conflicting emotions, the strongest of which was bridled fury at the woman’s panicky attitude. She acted as if he had plans to assault her, when he’d only been trying to help her up. He was angry and it cost him his temper. “The next time you bring a certifiable lunatic to my ranch, give me some advance warning,” the tall man sniped at Ed. He moved as curtly as he spoke, swinging abruptly into the saddle to glare down at them. “You’d better take her home,” he told Ed. “She’s a damned walking liability around animals.”

“But she rides very well, usually,” Ed protested. “Okay, then,” he added when the other man glowered at him. He forced a smile. “I’ll see you later.”

The tall man jerked his hat down over his eyes, wheeled the horse without another word and rode back up on the rise where he’d been sitting earlier.

“Whew!” Ed laughed, sweeping back his light brown hair uneasily. “I haven’t seen him in a mood like that for years. I can’t imagine what set him off. He’s usually the soul of courtesy, especially when someone’s hurt.”

Leslie brushed off her jeans and looked up at her friend morosely. “He rode right up to me,” she said unsteadily, “and leaned across me to talk with a hand on the saddle. I just…panicked. I’m sorry. I guess he’s some sort of foreman here. I hope you don’t get in trouble with your cousin because of it.”

“That was my cousin, Leslie,” he said heavily.

She stared at him vacantly. “That was Matt Caldwell?”

He nodded.

She let out a long breath. “Oh, boy. What a nice way to start a new job, by alienating the man at the head of the whole food chain.”