term he applied to Cat. He also wanted to explore other possibilities. She affected him as no woman ever had before. “Friends,” Slade murmured. “That’s a good place for us to start.”
“I hope you have a lot of patience,” she warned, feeling suddenly awkward.
Slade pinned her with an intense look. “Why?”
“Because I’m not myself, Slade. I’m jumpy and I snap when I don’t mean to.”
He smiled. “Lady, I’ve been snapped at by the best of them. I regard our two-month vacation at my ranch as just one more adventure.”
“Normally I’d agree with you. But I’m afraid you’re getting the raw end of this deal, Slade. I’ll give you one more chance to back off from your offer to let me use your ranch as my hospital for two months.”
The road spilled out of the small town, a narrow gray asphalt ribbon among the pine-clad hills. “Not on your life, Cat. I like a woman who has wanderlust in her soul!”
A smile shadowed Cat’s mouth as she met Slade’s merry glance. “Folks like us have it in their blood, don’t we? What’s so surprising about finding someone like yourself?”
“You try so hard to hide what’s deep inside you, Cat Kincaid. I keep trying to figure out who closed you up like a book under lock and key. But I know you’re not like those rocks I hunt, without feeling.” He laughed, a deep, resonant laugh. “You’re like an elusive emerald: hard to find, dangerous to extract and fragile when being cut and polished into a gem.”
Cat felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “It’s the nature of my work that makes me quiet. You’re a geologist, you should know that.”
Slade knew, but he couldn’t resist teasing her. She responded so quickly to the slightest amount of goading. He really shouldn’t, because she was far from well and Dr. Scott had warned him about overtaxing Cat. “I know what you’re saying, Cat, but I like to see that green fire leap into your eyes. I’ll let you off the hook, though. Dr. Scott gave me a stern lecture about not picking on you…for now.”
Cat closed her eyes, resting comfortably despite the tightness of the rib wrap. “That’s big of you,” she parried. “I suppose I ought to count my lucky stars for the reprieve.”
“It’s going to be a short one,” he warned, shooting her a mischievous look.
Cat smiled. She knew he was baiting her again. He’s good for me, she suddenly realized. But if the big, arrogant Texan knew that, he’d gloat. “What kind of pilot are you?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I got my license at Disneyland. Does that impress you?”
Laughter bubbled up in her throat but she squelched it, trying to avoid the subsequent pain. “You’re so full of baloney. Come on, level with me.”
“And if I did, would it make any difference?”
“My level of comfort would increase markedly if I knew more of your nefarious credentials.” She suspected his credentials were far from nefarious, but enjoyed turning the tables on him for a change.
Slade appeared momentarily wounded. “Well, I have exactly 3,212 hours on my multiengine and I.F.R. ratings and have been qualified in twelve different aircraft during my short experience of flying.”
“My comfort level is increasing,” she admitted with a smile.
“Let’s see. What else? The pilot is thirty-five, six feet four inches tall, single, roguishly handsome, makes a decent living, doesn’t have any outstanding debts to speak of and currently is unattached.” He looked squarely at her. “How’s your comfort level now?”
“It just nosedived.”
“Oh.”
“I’d have felt better if you’d told me that you’ve flown around the world and are an excellent navigator.”
“Well, I’m that, too.”
“But for some reason, you thought your personal stats would be of more interest to me?”
“I don’t want you to worry that you’d be a third wheel at the Mourning Dove Ranch. You’re lucky–you’ll be the only woman there besides Pilar, my manager’s wife.”
“Somehow, I don’t quite know if that’s lucky or unlucky, Donovan.”
He grinned. “It’s definitely lucky, Ms. Kincaid. Wait and see.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
“Your choice. Which do you want it to be?”
“You’re impossible, Slade, certifiably impossible.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been told. But then, because of my impossible qualities, I did discover a couple of gem deposits over in Brazil.” His voice grew softer. “Ever heard of the El Camino Mine, Ms. Kincaid?”
Cat blinked. The El Camino Mine had been splashed across all the mining and geology magazines two years earlier. It was, according to most geologists, one of the finest tourmaline discoveries in the world. The quality of the precious stones was almost flawless, and had sent excitement through the gem community. One fine deposit of watermelon tourmaline had set everyone on their ears. The pink stones without fractures were as rare as emeralds without flaws. She saw Slade’s smile widen.
“Don’t tell me…wait…you discovered that deposit! That’s where I’ve heard your name before.” Her thumping heart underscored her awe. “I almost ended up working at that site,” Cat added in disbelief.
“I know. I was the one who tried to persuade the owners to hire you to sink the shafts.” Slade shrugged. “But contracts are contracts; you were still building a mine shaft in Austria at the time. Just think, we almost rubbed elbows two years ago.”
Cat was still shaking her head. “You discovered El Camino. I can’t believe it.”
“You’ll wound my poetic soul with barbs like that.”
“Somehow, I think very little penetrates that thick skin of yours.”
“Mmm, careful. The right woman has open access to my tender heart and loving soul.”
“You’re going to make me laugh whether I want to or not, Slade. Now stop it.”
He saw the faint smile at the corners of her lush mouth, an unspoiled mouth that needed taming. Cat wasn’t like most women, he suspected. But then, he didn’t expect her to be. She lived in a world of brawny miners, skilled in the reshaping of the earth, but resistant to women who chose to be more than bed partners and housekeepers. Slade knew by the set of Cat’s jaw that she had endured much to succeed in her career, and he admired her for that. Like the roses that grew wild behind his ranch house, Cat had not only flowered, she had blossomed in the harsh environment.
Slade cornered the car gently, turning into the flight-service area of the airport. He pointed toward the tarmac. “Say hello to my number-two gal, Maggie.”
Cat’s eyes widened in appreciation as she stared at the sleek, aerodynamically designed Cessna. Slade might appear laid back, but he took good care of his airplane. Its gleaming white surface looked recently waxed, and the graceful red stripe running from the tail to the nose was a dark ruby color. The name on the fuselage read: Donovan’s Services, Inc.
“Just what services do you perform?” she couldn’t resist asking.
Slade put the car in park and pulled the key from the ignition. His grin was infuriating. “What service would you like rendered?”
Cat clamped her mouth shut, fiercely aware of the innuendo in his voice.
“If Maggie’s number two, who’s number one?” she persisted.
Slade released his seat belt and opened his door. Still grinning, he replied, “I’m holding that