Vance was the oldest of the hands on Sebastian Osborne’s ranch, but it was his stoic nature and gentle voice that drew me to him every time I visited Denver. I liked Vance, trouble was, he showed no interest in me. But I didn’t care, I just liked being around him when the world became too much to deal with. A model’s life isn’t always a bed of roses.
Anyway, I’d come to accept a high maintenance kind of woman, like me, just didn’t fit his simple needs. Though I was well aware, that same fact sure didn’t stop the younger cowboys from strutting their wares in a contest to see who could rope the city slicker first.
“I said no.” I slipped out from under Cody’s arms. He’d braced his hands against the barn’s siding on each side of my head, thinking that would hold me in. Little did he know, the city boys knew that same move, and I was well practiced in maneuvering out of that hold. But the greenhorn was swift and caught me by the wrist, keeping me from totally escaping him.
“Are ya saying ya too good for me?” His tone carried a bit of arrogance that nursed an ego I was guilty of wounding.
“No. I said-”
“She might not be saying that about you Cody, but I am.” Vance’s deep voice broke through the darkness in the barn. His large hands grabbed the young cowboy by the scruff of …