Impatient as ever, her childhood nemesis was waiting for her before she’d even made it down the long gravel drive to his cabin. Feet spread. Arms crossed. Stetson pulled down low.

And he still didn’t know it was her. Heaven knew what he’d do once she emerged from the car.

Everything had been in such a state of chaos this morning. After Crenshaw announced she was going to work for the competition, Nyx Security Solutions hadn’t had time to do more than shove the revised paperwork at Clem and tell her to have Rowan fill his portion out once she arrived.

Up to that point, she hadn’t even known where she was going. They’d just called and told her to be packed and at headquarters within thirty minutes.

It had taken every bit of her self-control not to react when they’d finally mentioned she and the dog would be spending the next six months at Bradford Dog Training Academy under Rowan Bradford’s tutelage. Said they’d been trying to reach him all morning, but his cell signal was for shit and his internet even worse.

Reducing her speed, she slipped on her sunglasses. Not that she was hiding. Well, okay. Maybe she was. But she was over two hours late, and if there was one thing Mr. Punctuality had zero tolerance for, it was someone who didn’t have the courtesy to show up on time.

If the sunglasses gave her a sense of false security, well, so be it.

Turning the wheel, she pulled up alongside his pickup, intentionally choosing the side furthest from him. Forcing him to come to her rather than the other way around.

Using the rearview mirror, she glanced at the Belgian Malinois inside a dog crate. “Lesson Number One, girl. The best defense is a good offense. Watch and learn.”

Buzzing down all the windows, she took a deep breath and squared her jaw. She’d barely stepped from the car before he rounded his truck.

She slammed her door. “What’s the deal with the total lack of signage for this place?”

He ground to a halt. Shock, confusion, horror, and—there it was—anger flashed across his face like a flip book animation.

But she didn’t give him a chance to respond. “I’ve been driving all over this godforsaken ranch for two hours trying to track this place down. What kind of businessman doesn’t see to it that his clients can find him? A for shit one, that’s what kind. No wonder you have to contract yourself out to security companies. Your puppy training classes would be over before the customers ever arrived. You’re just lucky I knew to go to the Big House and ask for directions. Not that it was there. The effing thing is gone. Which sent me on another—”

“Enough!” His shout resounded in her eardrums like a tuning fork, pulsating through her in a succession of waves.

Snapping her mouth closed, she pushed her sunglasses up onto her head, their earpieces pressing her hair back. 

“Yes?” she asked in the mildest of tones. “You have something you wanted to say?”

At first, those blue, blue eyes of his delved into her brown ones. Searching. Zigzagging. Scouring. Then his gaze moved down her face. Lingered on her jaw, her neck, and the flesh her open collar revealed.

He checked out her breasts. Didn’t even try to disguise what he was doing, the jerk.

Punching a fist against her waist, she popped up an eyebrow. But it wasn’t her eyebrows he was looking at. No, her fist had plastered her untucked shirt against her hip. His focus zoomed in on that.

Loitered there. Then traveled down her jean-clad legs, pausing at her Ariat cowboy boots, before retracing the route just traveled.

When he finally reached her eyes again, her left eyebrow was still peaked.

“You done?” she asked.

She was so damn proud of herself for not subjecting him to the same scrutiny. Not that she hadn’t been tempted. She had, but no way would she give him the satisfaction.

Besides, her peripheral vision had conveyed plenty of neurons to her brain all by itself. It had paid particular attention to the breadth he’d gained across his chest and shoulders since high school. The tightness of his blue jeans and the silver platter buckle edging a fly that was just begging for attention.

He affected an expression of boredom. “Still flat as ever, I see.”

Instead of rising to the bait, she allowed herself a smug smile. “Well, you know what they say. Some of the best things come in small packages.”

He harrumphed. “Speak for yourself.”