THE HOUSE WAS SO MUCH smaller than André was used to. He’d breathed in enough dirt and dust on his way out to Hickville, he’d probably become an asthmatic for life. How did people live out here? It’s nothing but desert and horseshit.

Though small, Reyna’s house was charming on the inside. Comfortable, for a civilian’s life. Only five bedrooms and three tiny bathrooms. Though according to Stefano, quite a large house for a rancher.

“How long do you think you’ll be staying?” Reyna perched herself in the rocking chair in the living room, holding Stefano’s hand.

“I’m not sure,” he replied, sipping on lemonade. “At least a few weeks. Do you mind?”

“Of course not, mijo. As long as you need.”

André didn’t even know Stefano had an aunt, let alone one who lived in the United States. He really didn’t know his guard’s personal life at all. I trust him with my life all these years, and I never thought to ask him.

“Miguel?”

Stefano called the name again. André shook his head. He’d never be able to get used to that alias.

“Lo siento. Yes?”

“Tia Reyna asked if we could help her around the ranch while we stay. You wouldn’t mind a few…chores, would you?”

The world was laughing at him, just as Stefano was. Chores? Like what, laundry and dusting? What chores did a Texas ranch require? Watering fields?

“Absolutamente. You’ve lived out here alone all this time?”

Reyna chuckled. “Hardly alone, Miguel. Rico and Gemma live on the property, and there are always veterinarians and more ranch hands coming and going. We live a busy life out here.”

“Miss…Gemma lives here with you?” Why on Earth am I asking this? Like I care where that woman sleeps.

“She stays in the house about a half mile down the gravel road, but sometimes sleeps in a room upstairs. Rico stays in the other bedroom on the first floor.”

“They won’t mind us invading their duties?”

“They’d love the help. There’s enough work to go around for many.” At the sound of shuffling at the stairs, Reyna smiled. “Isn’t that right, Gemma?”

Clomping down the steps in the same boots, Gemma reached the bottom as André nearly swallowed his tongue. The jeans and green-checkered shirt covered more of her curves than the earlier frock, but she was born to wear this hugging outfit. Every muscle accentuated, including those supple breasts… how could they look better like this than any bustier he’d purchased for others?

“As long as they stay out of my way and don’t piss off the horses, they can dance naked on the roof, for all I care.”

“Gemma Westfall,” Reyna scolded.

Hmm. The woman was still touchy about before. He’d never met a more defensive and disagreeable girl. But Reyna’s curious looks unnerved him.

According to Stefano, Reyna had lived in Solana until she met an American tourist visiting the island. They’d fallen in love, married, and she moved to Texas where he owned this horse ranch. But she was clearly old enough to remember the Peralta family. He was sure she recognized him, even without his goatee. Why else would she keep eyeing him like he held a deeper secret? When they shook hands outside, he swore she almost curtsied. This ruse wouldn’t last long.

“Gemma, please show Miguel to the red bedroom upstairs so he can get settled. Stefano can take the room across from it.”

Before Gemma could turn, Stefano calmly grabbed Reyna’s hand. “If you wouldn’t mind, Tía, are there two rooms beside each other? Es mas facil para mi a proteger.”

The two men glanced at each other, which Reyna caught. André hoped Stefano hadn’t crossed a line, since their identities were supposed to remain a secret. Two rooms next to each other were easier to protect. And from the blonde’s perplexing frown, they were lucky she hadn’t translated it.

Reyna paused, a little too long for André’s comfort, before she answered. “Yes. Gemma, please show Miguel to the red room and Stefano will take your bedroom.” Her tone was much less warm, as if putting her nephew in the other room was an imposition.

Gemma’s frown hardly encouraged him to follow, but he did anyway. Besides, her sashaying hips were a welcome distraction. Well fed and muscular, unlike the stick figure models he’d ‘dated.’ Her hips were made for riding horses…and other saddles. The swaying buttocks he’d glued his gaze on stopped halfway up the stairs and André almost collided with her, getting a much stronger waft of her sweet perfume. Fresh, not at all flowery like the other women doused themselves with.

“Your bags?” the woman asked.

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to bring your bags?”

“My bags?”

“Yes, bags,” Gemma sighed, irritation in every syllable. “This is a step. That’s a wall. Any other preschool lessons today?”

If she weren’t so condescending, he would have laughed. She had no idea to whom she spoke. Yet he found the way a dimple formed at her cheek when she was annoyed…entertaining.

“I’ll grab them later.”

The dimple grew more defined as she stared at him. “I’ll wait.”

André cocked his head. This woman didn’t bluff well.

Gemma huffed. “Meaning, I refuse to walk you to your room again, just so you can ogle my ass twice, Miguel. Grab your damn bags.”

Now he laughed. Which Gemma clearly didn’t expect as she balled her fists at her sides. “Second door on the right, City Boy. Escort yourself.”