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Ready For The Rancher. Zuri DayЧитать онлайн книгу.

Ready For The Rancher - Zuri  Day


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watched as she ran her hand across the lambskin seat. Her eyes, initially reticent, now sparkled while examining the console, with its built-in bottle chiller, various openers and glass rack. She stopped suddenly, as if becoming aware of her innocent wonder. She may have thought he’d find it amusing. He thought it endearing, and with a trail of showgirls, sycophants and rich chicks in his wake, a breath of fresh air.

      “So this is a limo?”

      He nodded. “It’s called an executive SUV.”

      “I like it.”

      A brow raised. “You don’t mind that it has leather seats?”

      “I’m not a member of the PETA police, Adam, you can relax.”

      He made a big show of taking a breath, which made her laugh as he’d intended.

      “While I don’t own a gun or a hunting license, my choice to be vegetarian is for nutritional reasons, mostly. I am cognizant of the earth’s precarious state and do what I can to try to protect the planet. I believe our bodies are our temples so I make an effort to be kind to mine. But I try not to be a holistic zealot trying to win everyone over to my point of view.

      “That said...” She paused dramatically. “There are faux materials that work just as well or even better than cowhide, and mushroom dishes that would make you throw away your steak.”

      “Baby,” Adam drawled, “unless that mushroom had hooves and could moo, trust me, there’d be no competition.”

      She was funny and natural and easy to talk to, yet emanated a vulnerability that brought out his chivalrous side. He wanted to protect her. From what, he had no idea. By the time they’d rounded back to the hotel, the stress of Adam’s day had faded, the questions he’d had about her demeanor forgotten for now.

      They entered the hotel through the private entrance and once inside the elevator, Adam accessed the panel to bypass all floors and take them straight to Zest, CANN Casino Hotel and Spa’s premier restaurant, located on the building’s one hundredth floor. As the elevator zoomed to the top, Ryan stepped closer to Adam and gripped his arm.

      “Afraid of heights?”

      “No, but I’m not fond of rockets masquerading as elevators.”

      “I’ve got you, girl.” He placed an arm around her, grateful for a reason to brush a hand across her soft skin. “Stay close to me and don’t worry about a thing.”

      The elevator doors opened, and as the host led them around the corner, Adam was rewarded with the gasp of awe that escaped every newcomer’s lips to the wonder that was the hotel’s crowning architectural and culinary masterpiece. With exquisite attention to detail, the main dining room, with a seating capacity for 140 guests, still afforded many booths semiprivacy, space between tables and an unobstructed view of the world beyond through floor-to-ceiling paneless windows that brought the outdoors inside. Classical music delicately played provided a subtle melody for the low murmur of conversation heard as Adam and Ryan were led to a booth. Its back created a wall between them and the other guests, while before them lay the whole of the Vegas Strip.

      “Do you want to go for a closer look?”

      Ryan shook her head as he finished the question. “It’s the most phenomenal view of this city I’ve ever seen, but believe me, I’m good.”

      They sat down to a table set with linen and china, a bottle of sparkling water cooling on ice.

      “This is so pretty,” Ryan said wistfully. “To think that this is everyday life for some people is a bit unbelievable. I feel like Cinderella.”

      “Does that mean I’m your prince?”

      “Until the clock strikes midnight,” Ryan said, her voice low as her eyes sparkled with seduction. Then, in an instant, the vulnerability reappeared. “Then I’ll have to run away before the carriage becomes a pumpkin and my clothes turn back to rags.”

      “Have I told you how much I like rags?” Asked so earnestly that not only did Ryan laugh but Adam cracked himself up as well. “In fact I think I’m going to start a clothing line. Rags by Adam.”

      “All cotton, no leather,” Ryan teased.

      “Not cotton,” Adam responded, “leaves.”

      Adam loved to hear Ryan laugh. While far from being a comedian, he’d turned the mood funny so that a certain body part straining to stand at attention would return to its at-ease position. The next few minutes was a parade of perfection as the sommelier, the maître d’ and their personal server ensured them the best of dining experiences.

      After toasting to the belief in magic, the two newfound friends settled against their seats and looked at each other, comfortable in the silence, each in their own thoughts of what the night was and all it could become.

      Ryan cocked her head. “What?”

      “You don’t like me looking at you?”

      “Worse could happen. But you’re frowning.”

      “I guess I’m trying to figure you out. You’re as different from Dennis as night is from day. I only met your dad a time or two but I remember him as a quiet man. I’d say you were more like him.”

      “I can be quiet,” Ryan replied. “I guess we have that in common.”

      “So Dennis must be more like your mom.”

      “They are almost exactly alike.”

      “It will be good to see them again after all these years. And you’ll be there, too, Dennis says.”

      Ryan nodded.

      “Do you get back often to visit?”

      “A few times a year, holidays mostly. But since my dad’s diagnosis, I’ve tried to go more frequently, and with the business about to open I thought that now, before that happened, would be a good time.”

      “What’s going on with your father, if you don’t mind me asking?”

      “He has chronic kidney disease.”

      “I’m so sorry.”

      “Me, too.”

      “How long has he had it?”

      “Apparently much longer than anyone realized. He battled diabetes and high blood pressure for years. No one knew how much havoc was being wreaked on his kidneys. The symptoms were always attributed to what we already knew.”

      Adam observed the hurt reflected in Ryan’s face as she nervously bit her lip. Clearly, she loved her father. For a Breedlove, that kind of family devotion was a very endearing trait.

      “Is that what made you want to study...”

      “Naturopathy? That was part of it. But I’ve always had compassion for anyone hurting. I watched people struggle and wanted to help them, especially as a little girl.”

      Adam watched as another flicker of pain flitted across her face. He wondered who caused it even as he felt an urge to protect her from it ever happening again.

      “My parents thought I’d be a nurse. But I can’t stand the sight of blood, which in the field of nursing is a bit problematic.”

      “Then you’d definitely not fare well at a meat-processing plant.”

      “Definitely not. During my senior year of high school I went to a job fair and discovered alternative-based medicine. It’s where I first heard the word naturopathy. Before the hour was over I knew what I wanted to do. Now, I’m here.”

      “About to open your own business?”

      “Yes. Me and a partner are opening our own practice in a strip mall not far from here.”

      “What services will you offer?”

      “My specialties include


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