Standing easily at six-three or four, this powerful-looking security guard, wearing an expensive looking formal suit of midnight-blue in deference to the funeral proceedings, had the hard-muscled physique of a male at home in the out-of-doors.

He was probably in his mid-thirties. She had to admit, albeit be grudgingly, that with his black hair and burnished skin he resembled a rugged facsimile of Adonis. To her ear the name Cole sounded too western for a man who exuded an almost international so phistication.

Having worked the front desk on the night shift at one of Reno’s top hotels while she’d finished college, she’d met attractive, wealthy men from all over the world. But if she had to pick just one who was the most memorable, he still wouldn’t measure up to the force standing next to her.

That was what this man was-a dynamic, living, breathing force. He radiated a potent male energy that set him apart from those less endowed. She had to concede she’d more than met her match here. If she could appeal to his honor-

Catherine sensed something that told her he was a highly principled male with a superior intellect who probably demanded more discipline from himself than those around him.

How she knew that she couldn’t explain, but she recognized that the owner of the ranch had known what he was doing when he’d hired Cole Farraday. She was left with little choice but to reveal what he’d immediately perceived was her secret motive for coming here.

“All right,” she exclaimed with a resigned sigh, feeling more vulnerable than ever with the door still open so he could view every inch of her body, which he’d been doing. But in case someone came outside to get in their car, she didn’t want to attract attention by standing next to hers in the presence of the security guard.